An Uneasy Alliance
by rsb57
Summary: Starsky wants to help a young homeless boy whom Hutch doesn't trust. All three are linked by trouble and uncertainty.  Story is now complete.
1. CHAPTER 1PROLOGUE

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**CHAPTER 1- PROLOGUE**

It was several hours before the sun would come up in Bay City, but there still was activity along the streets. Some of the working girls walked along together, comparing their evening activities. They traded gossip and whispered about what they'd love to do with their money, had it all actually belonged to them. Lights came on in the coffee shop down the street. As the women walked into the diner, the proprietor waved to his regular first customers of the day.

Nobody paid any attention as the garbage truck rounded the corner. It chugged and rattled down the street. The driver had already been at work all night and now this neighborhood was the last on his schedule.

Larry yawned as he shifted gears, grinding them instead of the smooth transition he usually mastered. He was tired and sore and just wanted to finish this last section. He'd already done the alleys parallel to the street he was on. Now he had to go a few more blocks, down by the warehouse district. He always saved that section for his last round. From there it was a straight shot back to the refuse collection point where he'd unload the garbage truck then head home.

There were a lot of vagrants in this part of the city. The abandoned warehouses were crawling with them. Most of them were harmless, just grouped together for protection and companionship. Mindful of what appeared to be garbage to him, might be a treasure to someone less fortunate, he thought about how the homeless always scavenged through the dumpsters, looking for food, clothing or some other useful item.

Larry scanned his manifest, checking off the grid number and date of last pick up. He was only supposed to do this section once a month so he always did it on the last day of his schedule. It was a ritual and one that he'd stuck with for the last two years.

Larry parked the big truck and got out to take a look around. The last dumpster he had to empty was a few feet away. Scattered around it were a few things that caught the garbage man's attention. He found a magazine, only a few months old. But it was too wet and soggy to bother with. He noticed several cigarette butts. It always amazed him that no matter how small the butt, as long as there was something to smoke, somebody would count it as a treasure.

He sniffed and rubbed his grimy hand over his nose. He walked to the side of the dumpster and peered down at the ground. A perfectly good shoe. He scooped up the blue shoe, thinking somebody would be glad to have it. It may not have a match to it, but most of the street people weren't that fashion conscious to care whether their shoes matched, only that they had one for each foot. He wrinkled his nose at the stains on the shoe. He didn't want to think about what may have caused them.

It was while he inspected the shoe that he heard a mournful sound from inside the garbage receptacle.

"Probably a damn cat." He spoke out loud, trying to ignore the hairs prickling the back of his neck, as he moved closer to the dumpster. Peering over the edge, he looked down into the container.

Caught in frozen fascination, he looked at the shoe in his hand and recognized its mate, still fitted to the body among the garbage.


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Starsky and Hutch franchise. THe following is for entertainment only.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This story is in memory of two important people in my life. Without them, I would not have the courage to explore my dreams.

To My Mother Dorothy: She died in 2009. SHe always believed in me.

To My Husband Ron: He died in 2004. He taught me to believe in myself.

Their spirits are captured in this story: My mother inspired the charater you'll meet later, Gladys Delight Hawkins.

Ron was the inspiration for the homeless boy Ronnie. He's tougher than you think!

**Chapter One**

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

Like most cities, Bay City had an area of town that was in disrepair and forgotten about. This block of buildings consisted of abandoned stores and condemned apartment buildings. What once had been single family homes were now among the other dilapidated structures. The owners couldn't be found so the whole area had just been ignored rather than torn down.

For a young boy on his own, one particular place had become his refuge. He'd taken up residence in a garage behind the houses. The garage had once held at least three cars. There wasn't a door any more, since it had been removed and the metal had been sold for scrap.

The inside was decorated with a sagging couch that at one time was green and black striped. Several chairs in equal condition were scattered about. A warped book case held playing cards, tools and even a couple of books. The place was full of cob webs and dust. There wasn't much light since the buildings that surrounded it blocked out most of the sun.

Ronnie Stanton called this area home. Today he felt very lonely and almost wished he could go home. Instead, he took out a watch from an inside pocket of his jacket. This was his prized possession, the only thing he had that had belonged to his dad. He barely remembered his mother. She walked out when he was still just a kid. Dad was left to do the best he could with three children. Ronnie had another brother and a sister, both older than himself. His sister was fifteen when she ran away. They found out later that she was pregnant and eventually married the baby's father. They never saw her again. His brother Dylan had joined the army to escape. He didn't seem to care that he went to Viet Nam. They eventually heard that he had died there. Ronnie still remembered the military dude who came to the door, handed them Dylan's personal stuff and gave them a flag. From that day on his dad drank constantly. He never went to work, didn't cook or clean. By then, Ronnie had decided to run away. There was nothing for him at home, no one cared about him. He was small for his age and school had always been tough. He was picked on and the teachers never gave him any slack because of the lack of parental support.

So one night after his dad had passed out from his routine of booze, Ronnie made a decision. He took Dylan's lighter that had been returned to them and his dad's watch, stuffed clothes and money into a knap sack and walked out the door. He tried calling his dad once, but the phone had been disconnected. It wouldn't surprise him if his dad was dead.

He often wondered what it would be like to have someone who cared about him. Someday, he'd have a real family again.

He got up from the beaten up couch and paced the floor. He was restless and suddenly, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet today.

He thought he'd try the warehouse mission today. He'd heard they were having meatloaf, which was a favorite of his.

The soup kitchen was run by nuns who wore dark colors but not the outfits Ronnie expected them to wear.

Slowly, he made his way to the food line. He kept his head down as he grabbed a tray. He slid along the line, grabbing anything that was offered. The woman, who served him the meatloaf, nodded her head and smiled.

"Bless you child." She offered the kind words but Ronnie didn't look at her. Moving on down the line, he took a helping of the little round potatoes and broccoli. Then he was given two pieces of thick bread and for desert, a piece of apple pie. He made his way through the crowded room, picking a table that wasn't as filled as all the others.

No sooner did he find a place, than an older man with a long white beard sat next to him. The man hunched forward, concentrating on his food, almost like he was afraid someone would take it from him if he didn't eat it fast enough. Then another man, very dirty and smelly, sat on the other side of Ronnie. The man had a hacking cough and wiped his mouth with his hand. He wiped his hand on his shirt, then without using the plastic utensils that sat in a cup in the middle of the table, began to eat.

Ronnie tried to ignore both men, preferring to eat in silence. Pretty soon, both men could be heard grunting in pleasure while eating the meal and had forgotten about everything but what was in front of them.

Ronnie's eyes darted around the table, noticing a plate with more bread. He reached across and grabbed two pieces and stuffed them in his pockets. His eyes searched the room, making sure no one saw him take the bread.

The meatloaf was pretty good. It was filling and Ronnie was glad to have had at least this one meal for the day. He wasn't sure when he would eat again so scraps he could pick up now, he'd save for later.

He stood up to leave and as he did so, a woman in dark clothing came to him as he made his way to the aisle.

It was the same woman who had offered him a blessing in the food line. Ronnie really wanted to get away but she stood in front of him, not giving him a chance to escape.

"I just wanted you to know that you are welcome here any time young man. God is looking out for you." She smiled at him and then moved to another table.

He shook his head and then began to leave. But something caught his attention. At another table, there was a plate with vegetables and potatoes left over but no one sat in front of the plate. No one was eating and there wasn't anyone near by. He slid over and emptied the plate into his pockets. The stuff might be cold and a little squished by the time he got them home, but it would still be good.

Then as he got near the exit, he saw a table in the corner. There was a large bowl over flowing with fruit. This was something he didn't get very often and his mouth watered as he saw the apples and oranges. He glanced around, seeing that again, no one seemed to be paying him any attention. He looked closer; wanting to make sure the nun who had spoken to him wasn't near by either. He rushed over, grabbed apples and oranges and stuffed them into the inside pockets of his coat. Quickly he ran out the door, never looking back. If he had, he would have seen the nun, Sister Barbara, standing at the door, watching. She made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer for the boy who was in such a hurry.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 2**

The LTD was parked along Main Street. Hutch scanned the opposite sidewalk, flicking his shirt open in hopes that the sweat would evaporate and somehow cool him. The day was hot and sticky and it was only a little after nine in the morning. Starsky seemed unaffected by the heat as he continued to scan the morning newspaper.

"Did you see this Hutch? It says here that the crime rate is down in the city. But seems to me we're working our butts off lately and getting nowhere fast." Disgustedly, Starsky crumpled the paper; frustrated at the inaccuracies the public was often given.

Hutch rubbed the crease between his eyes. It was too early to get into a political discussion. Or maybe it was too late. They'd been up almost twenty four hours doing a double shift because of the stomach virus that had spread through the precinct.

Hutch kept his attention focused on a young boy across the street.

"Starsk, what do you think the temperature is today?" He continued to watch the boy who just seemed to be loitering in front of a convenience store.

Hutch flinched as the paper rustled in Starsky's hands. He heard his partner mumble under his breath, looking for the weather report.

"Says here it's gonna be ninety-five degrees and dry all week." Starsky continued to fold the paper in a neat square, suddenly interested in the horoscope section.

"Then wouldn't you say it's a little too hot to be wearing an over sized army jacket?"

Across the street, the boy seemed to be scanning the people around him. He suddenly stood alert as an older woman came towards him.

Hutch nudged Starsky in the side, who responded with a grunt. But looking in his partner's direction, Starsky picked up on the scene out the window. They both watched as the young boy, dressed in jeans and a too big camouflage coat began to stalk the older woman. The gray-haired lady shuffled along, clutching her purse, walking cautiously, looking at the ground.

Hutch slapped Starsky's knee; the signal for them to make their move. After Starsky slipped out of the car, Hutch slowly drove down the road a bit before making a U-turn in the street. This gave Starsky enough time to get across and follow the little thief without blowing their presence.

Starsky followed the boy, getting more of a description in his head. The boy had dirty blond hair that ran down his back. He figured the kid to be about fourteen. As he got closer, Starsky noticed that not only was the jacket too big, but the pants were too long. The bottoms were rolled up a few inches, showing once white sneakers.

Behind him, the LTD crawled along, keeping pace with Starsky. Suddenly, the youngster picked up speed, and attempted to reach around the old lady. Anticipating the move, Starsky caught up with the kid who seemed to sense that he was in danger. Instead of completing his intended crime, he dropped back, darted in front of Hutch's car, ran through the rest of the traffic and sped down an alley. As the blaring horns and shouts of anger died down, the boy disappeared, forgotten about by everyone but Starsky and Hutch.

The old lady, completely unaware that the scene around her had just changed, only knew about the scruffy looking man standing in front of her who seemed to be reaching for her purse. With more energy than Starsky would have expected, the woman raised her purse and struck him with it several times. She hit him once on the head, once on the shoulder and connected not only her purse but landed her fist which was holding the purse in a direct hit in Starsky's belly, causing him to grunt and bend forward. He held up his hands in an effort to hold off any more attacks. But for good measure, she stomped on his foot with her chunky heeled, sensible shoe.

"Lady, wait.. I was only trying…" His breath left him as another blow to his stomach knocked the wind out of him.

"I know what you were trying to do, you hooligan! You need to learn some manners!" By this time, Hutch had gotten out of the car but stood back, enjoying the misunderstanding on Starsky's behalf.

"Help! Help! I'm being robbed. Call the police." The woman stood back, waving her arms, as she screamed for help. Hutch took that opportunity to make his presence known and to help the poor woman.

"Ma'am, I'm a policeman! But it wasn't this man who…" Hutch flashed his badge, trying to calm the woman and at the same time reach out to Starsky.

"Officer, this man was reaching for my purse. I saw him. There are witnesses…" She rattled on but her demands faded as Starsky fished his badge out of his pocket to show the woman. She suddenly quieted, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Ma'am, we stopped a kid from stealing your purse. It's just he got away and then you thought I was him and…" Starsky spluttered, indignant that the little thief had gotten away but more annoyed that such a small, old woman could pack such a wallop with her purse.

The little group had moved towards Hutch's car. They intended to ask the woman to give a statement. This was the third time in two weeks that robberies occurred in the open, during the day, with older women as the target. This time they were lucky enough to have seen the thief so they were anxious to get to the station, get the woman's statement and meet up with a police artist in order to get out the description of the young culprit.

Hutch helped the woman into the back of his car. He stopped her progress long enough to move aside two days of newspapers, a blanket and an empty thermos.

Starsky scowled at his partner's messy car. He longed to be in his own Torino with the sparkling leather interior and pristine paint job on the outside.

The two men stood by the car, talking about the young man who had slipped past them.

"The kid was about fourteen with dark blond hair." Starsky searched his pockets for a pen, then saw one sticking out of Hutch's shirt. He grabbed it, ignoring the look of contention on his partner's face. He quickly wrote out what they were brainstorming about the little thief.

Hutch shifted on his feet and turned to look in the direction the boy had taken off. "He went down that alley, but he stopped long enough to check to see if we were following him."

Starsky wrote down the street names, snapped the notebook shut and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans. He slipped the pen behind his ear but it was confiscated with quick fingers as Hutch claimed his pen back.

Both men let out a long sigh and stared at each other. Hutch slapped the other man on the back as Starsky went around to the passenger side of the car. As he shut the door, the window handle dropped to the ground. With a grunt of annoyance, he picked it back up and closed the door. He turned to face the woman in the back seat. She sat primly holding her purse, staring straight ahead.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get this over with quickly. I have shopping to do."

"Yes ma'am." Starsky answered. "We'll get you to the station, take your statement then one of our officers will drive you anywhere you need to go." He gave her his best smile and with that, she relaxed and leaned against the seat.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 3**

An hour later, Hutch sat with the police artist, describing the kid he'd seen trying to rob the old lady. They knew her now as Gladys Delight Hawkins, a very feisty, determined senior citizen.

"Everybody just calls me Delight." She took the cup of water that Starsky offered, nodding her thanks.

After she introduced herself, Starsky raised his eye brow and beamed a smile at her. She was used to this sort of reaction at her name.

Starsky hunched over the typewriter, scratching out his latest mistake as Delight continued with her statement.

"The girls at the senior center got tired of being scared to walk down the street so we invited an instructor to come and give us self defense lessons. We've only had two but they certainly boosted my confidence, let me tell you!" Delight sat in the steel chair, back straight; ankles crossed and held her purse in her lap. She stared at Starsky, offering advice.

"You know, if you cut your hair and dressed a little nicer, you'd be just right for my granddaughter. She's a nurse."

Starsky rolled his eyes as the woman sat across from him, flashing an innocent grin. His stomach still ached from the punch to his mid-section, delivered by a very determined lady with a heavy purse. He chose to ignore the granddaughter invitation and returned the conversation back to the attempted robbery she'd experienced.

"But Delight, you need to learn to keep your head up. Make sure you're aware of your surroundings. If my partner and I hadn't been there…"

"I know, David. That's what the instructor said we should do. But sometimes that hurts my neck. Oh, it just isn't safe around here anymore. Officer, am I done now? I've got to get back home to feed Stripes… that's my cat. He's probably crying already from lack of attention."

She stood up, dismissing Starsky in her mind and now only focused on getting home to her cat: Stripes got grumpy when left alone too long.

Starsky signaled a uniformed cop that stood by the water cooler. They had spoken earlier and Officer Davidson had agreed to take Mrs. Hawkins home.

Delight had changed her plans since she was tired and had enough excitement for one day.

She didn't seem to take any more notice of her surroundings but headed straight for the exit.

Hutch stood beside his partner, looking at the drawing in his hand.

Starsky settled his butt on the back of the chair, his feet positioned on the seat. He glanced over at the picture in Hutch's hands.

"So that's the kid you saw who tried to steal Delight's purse? Wonder if he's responsible for the other crimes that involved older women and their purses?" Delight told Starsky that two of her friends had also been approached, their purses stolen but they were not hurt, just shaken up.

"Could be. Those other people were all members of the same senior citizen's group." Hutch set the drawing down and leaned against the metal desk, facing Starsky.

"It's not in the best neighborhood. That part of town has really been neglected." Hutch scratched his chin, thinking about the homeless people they encountered every day. Now it seemed that kids were part of that population.

Starsky looked at his friend, recognizing the signs that Hutch was worried. He was sure that Kiko was on his mind and was rewarded with such a comment.

"I'm just really glad Kiko got back on track and is doing well in school. He's content now with his mom and he's on the basketball team. His grades are good too."

Hutch had been Kiko's mentor for several years. The boy had gone through a rough patch, hanging out with the wrong crowd and he'd shut Hutch out of his life. But now, the two were friends again and they often went camping, something Starsky didn't participate in.

He had always admired the relationship but Starsky didn't feel he was capable of the same thing. He liked kids but worried that he couldn't relate enough to make a difference. He often thought about his brother Nicky. He still felt guilty that he was responsible for the problems his younger sibling encountered.

After their father had died, Starsky started to hang out with a rough group of older boys. He got into some minor scrapes but it was more than his mother could handle. During the summer after his father's death, Rachel Starsky sent her oldest son to California to live with her sister and brother-in- law. Al and Rosie didn't have any children but were eager to help the young family in any way they could. Starsky protested but with no luck changing his mother's plans. He spent the first year sullen and withdrawn until he understood that his mother had only been thinking of his well being.

However, that left Nicky without any male influence so he searched outside the home for acceptance and found it in the same group that their mother had wanted to rescue Starsky from. As it turned out, Nicky was the perfect addition to the hard core group. He stayed out all night and continued to get into trouble through out his teen years. By the time he was eighteen, he'd become a member in good standing with this group and was proud of himself for his role within his surrogate family.

Starsky tried to help anyway he could. He worked from the time he got to California and sent money home. He hoped that with more money available, Nicky could go to a private school, but his brother constantly ditched classes and was thrown out of a number of good schools.

Even as adults, Nicky still resented his older brother. Starsky wasn't sure how to help his brother but tried to shield their mother from bad news when Nicky turned up at his door or called asking for money. He was a disappointment to Rachel Starsky and a constant cause of frustration for Starsky.

Doing his best to clear his mind of that life long burden, he set his feet on the floor and stood up. He patted Hutch on the back and silently directed him to follow.

"Let's go check out the senior center." Starsky spoke over his shoulder as he pushed open the double doors out to the hallway.

"Delight said that Wednesday was homemade cookie day at the center." Starsky rubbed his belly in anticipation.

'Is that all you think about, food? We need details man!" Hutch shook his head at his partner's obsession with junk food.

"Well, I think better with food near by."

The two men headed toward the elevator, sharing a laugh and already planning their next steps involving the purse snatching caper.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 4**

After he was sure no one would come after him, Ronnie stood bent over catching his breath. He waited until the two men got back in their car and finally drove off. That had been too close. It was only the second time Ronnie had tried to steal a purse and now he was a bit shaken by the experience. It wasn't long after Ronnie arrived in Bay City when he realized he needed two things. He needed shelter and he needed money. The money he'd taken when he left home wouldn't last forever so he had to find a way to get his hands on easy cash. He was too young to work anywhere so for the first few days, he'd just walked around, sleeping in door ways and eating at soup kitchens. It was at one such place that he met a young man not much older than himself. He'd struck up a friendship of sorts with the teen-ager who like Ronnie, roamed the streets with no particular place to call home.

Ronnie left the building but was soon joined by Blake, the boy who had eaten beside him.

After that, the boys joined together for an uneasy partnership. It was by unspoken agreement that they were on their own but that Blake would help Ronnie learn some street skills.

He'd watched Blake effortlessly steal a wallet from an unsuspecting man. He warned Ronnie that this was possible only after a lot of practice. He encouraged the younger boy to start with purse snatchings, particularly after he discovered that his new friend was a fast runner.

That had happened several months ago and occasionally Ronnie tried to use what he'd learned from Blake. The other boy had long since disappeared so Ronnie was definitely on his own.

He wasn't ready to go back to the garage so he decided to go a few blocks away from where he stood. If he went more than five blocks, he'd be in dangerous territory. There was a gang of street punks in that area but he was feeling brave so decided to investigate.

Ronnie turned the corner, on his way over to Waverly playground. He knew the gang called The Blades claimed the area as theirs, but he suddenly had an urge to check out the playground that was right in the middle of their domain. He didn't want trouble but he didn't see why he couldn't use the playground for awhile. He wanted to forget about his family that didn't exist anymore and just be a kid. Besides, that was the only park close by.

Ronnie ambled through the streets, glancing in windows at the expensive jewelry. He stopped at a pawn shop, wondering if his watch was worth anything. He didn't have much money left in his hiding place but getting rid of the watch would be a last resort. Even though he knew his father hadn't loved him, it was still a connection that he thought about often. He put his hand in the pocket and ran his fingers over the smooth surface. Somehow, it brought him comfort, even though he couldn't have explained why.

Starsky and Hutch were asking questions of everyone at the senior center who knew anything about the thefts, gathering facts about the purse snatchings, talking to the men who'd had their wallets stolen and other incidents that worried the group.

Starsky sat at a table that was covered with a checkered table cloth. He munched on a cookie, content to let Hutch ask more questions.

Writing a few words in his notebook, Hutch flipped it closed and slipped it back into his shirt pocket.

Sitting across from them were two older men. Roger had his glasses off and was wiping them with a tissue. He placed them back on the bridge of his nose then continued speaking.

"But you're sure that Delight is okay? She's a special lady and I'd feel awful if she had been hurt." Roger and Delight had a date later in the week. They were going to a movie but if something had happened, Roger would have felt really guilty.

"Roger, she's fine. She's pretty feisty. But she went home after giving us her statement." Starsky spoke quietly, looking directly into the lined face of the man sitting next to him.

"Every time somebody gets mugged, they always say it was a kid, a young person." Will grunted in agreement and sipped at his coffee. He made a face as he added more sugar. He stirred it while he added to what Roger had said.

"I think it's the same kid, just one all the time. Could this be his territory, like you hear some gangs have?" His eyes grew misty with worry.

Hutch reached out to cover the old man's hand with his.

"I don't think it's that serious." He waved his hand in front of him to keep Will from interrupting him. The man had made a face when Hutch seemed to disregard the danger they faced.

"I don't mean to say that you have nothing to worry about. I just mean that I don't think this is an organized, established so-called gang. But we'll be looking for them. Just keep your eyes open and you'll be okay. Call if there are any more problems." Hutch handed him a piece of paper with their phone number on it.

Starsky swallowed the last bite of his cookie and chased it with a sip of coffee.

"My partner and I'll look into it further. Maybe if we scout around, we can find where they hang out. If it turns out to be the same kid, maybe even get him back to his family."

The detectives stared at each other and by silent agreement, stood up to leave. They reached out to shake hands with Roger and Will.

"Just tell everyone to be careful and walk in groups." Starsky grabbed another cookie and raised it in a salute to the group of ladies sitting at another table.

They walked across the large room toward the exit. They passed a table where men played checkers and women sat in front of a few chess boards, deep in concentration. At another table near the door, a group of women sat, knitting and gossiping. Starsky stopped to offer his thanks for the cookies.

"Come back any time officer." The woman waved and Starsky winked at the group.


	6. Chapter 5

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**CHAPTER 5**

The detectives finally left the building after Starsky had stopped to talk to the women who were knitting. He found out that Isobel had a granddaughter who she thought Starsky should meet. He thanked her for the invitation but explained that he'd be pretty busy while they were looking into their problem and wouldn't have time until after to meet the girl.

Eventually, they got to the Torino and gladly took their places, relaxing against the vinyl seats.

Hutch put his head back, closing his eyes for a minute. Starsky smiled to himself, wondering about the granddaughter Isobel had mentioned. He recalled another older woman who wanted him to meet Abigail Crabtree. He frowned suddenly remembering the beautiful young girl who Hutch had stolen from him. He wouldn't be so quick to judge by the name or let Hutch get anywhere near her.

As if reading Starsky's mind, Hutch began to chuckle.

"Well, sounds like you've got a date waiting. You never did find out her name." Hutch tried to suppress his laugh as Starsky glared at him.

Before Starsky had a chance to respond, the radio crackled to life, interrupting further discussion.

"_Any unit in the vicinity of Seaside and Waverly, respond to a 10-103."_

The men looked at each other, agreeing wordlessly to take the call regarding a disturbance due to a fight.

Starsky turned the key in the ignition while Hutch called in their intention.

"Zebra Three in the area and responding." He clicked off the radio, reached for the Mars light and attached it to the roof. The car sped off as the light contacted with the roof. The magnetized pull of the light connecting always gave Hutch a sense of control. He realized that it would be the last until they had investigated what ever they were about to encounter, but it was always enough to center his thoughts and prepare for the unknown.

Starsky stared straight ahead, effortlessly weaving between the cars. He voiced his thoughts which he was pretty sure, were the same for Hutch.

"Huggy was tellin' us about a gang that wore red bandanas. He said they had claimed a few blocks surrounding Waverly Street." Starsky braked quickly in order to avoid a pedestrian. He glared at the young man, and sped past a group of cars which had stopped upon hearing the siren.

Hutch picked up where Starsky had left off.

"They call themselves The Blades. According to Huggy, they all carry knives but no guns." Hutch shook his head and rubbed the crevice between his eyes, wondering which was worse?

"I'll bet the other gang involved is the Jaggers. They've been trying to expand their turf to include the same area." Hutch carded his hand through his hair in frustration. "It's gonna be a long hot summer if we've gotta deal with this shit."

Pulling up to a run down group of buildings, Starsky shut the engine off and they sat, getting their bearings.

Off to their right was an abandoned school building. Next to it was a playground that surprisingly was still in tact. It was always popular with the local kids but today it was empty. Not a good sign on a hot, summer afternoon.

Looking out Starsky's window, the detectives noticed a convenience store and a gas station. Both seemed to be going on with business as usual.

Suddenly, Hutch jabbed Starsky in the shoulder, directing their attention to the playground. A group of young men, dressed in black, seemed to be lurking, as if they were waiting to pounce. The partners watched as they moved forward into the playground and then chaos broke out as another group appeared, dressed also in black but had red bandanas tied around their faces.

"Seems the party started without us." Starsky spoke without humor as he checked his gun. Hutch checked his and pointed to his right, meaning that he would circle around to the right of the group while Starsky would advance from behind.

Giving a quick update to dispatch, Hutch picked up the mike and in a clear but clipped voice, gave their location and requested one black and white unit to respond, Hutch clicked off and silently followed the plans they had laid out.

By this time, the two groups had mingled and seemed just to be sizing each other up. Knives glinted in the sun and raised voices and taunts could be heard. As Starsky went around behind the playground, he briefly lost visual contact with Hutch. He came out from behind a large shed and used it for cover until he located his partner again.

Hutch had gotten to a structure that looked as if it used to sell snacks but had been abandoned and left to rot in the weather. The lettering had once been red and now was faded into the warped, sun bleached wood. It gave Hutch enough cover in order to see what they were getting into. There were already a couple bodies on the ground, one near where Hutch waited. He leaned down and crawled, grateful in a way that the group was more interested in each other than in the appearance of two uninvited guests to their activity. He snaked his way a few feet from the building, his belly scraping against the hard stones. He reached out to the man lying face up, felt for a pulse which wasn't there. Dark, clotted blood covered the man's shirt.

By now, he saw that Starsky was in position. He counted eight participants with three other's on the ground with various injuries. No guns had been fired but the knives were doing enough damage. Hutch got back up, his gun sweeping in front of him.

One of the gang members seemed to be backing his way toward Hutch. He could tell that the knife the young man held was red with blood. He wasn't sure if this person was trying to retreat or just regrouping but Hutch took advantage. With the gun digging into his back, the young man dropped his weapon and raised his hands, almost as if he were glad that his involvement was now over. Hutch reached for his hand cuffs, circled one end around a wrist and dragged the man over to the slide. He attached the other end to the upper rung of the ladder, leaving the man dangling by his toes.

"You gonna die sucker! We'll get you!" The black clothed youth spit toward Hutch who easily sidestepped the wet projectile.

By this time, the group was aware that their fight had been discovered. Some took advantage and ran quickly from the area, obviously not wanting to risk being arrested or identified.

Another young man approached Hutch, waving his knife back and forth in front of him. Even though Hutch had his gun pointed at his attacker, he took the threat seriously and cautiously.

'I'll cut that pretty face of yours." The man taunted Hutch, smiling an ugly, toothless grin.

Hutch didn't respond but tried to back the man up against the fence. The knife swung in an arc, giving Hutch time to kick the hand and arm, dislodging the knife which sent it flying out of reach. He kicked out again, this time to the man's stomach which caused him to double over, his breath leaving him in a grunt of pain. The perpetrator on knees now, Hutch shoved him to the ground, belly first. Just then, he heard sirens and sighed with relief when a squad car screeched to a stop outside the fence. Quickly, he saw Officer Bradley approach, his gun pointed at the man on the ground.

"Just in time, thanks man." Hutch puffed out his breath, grateful for the help. He stood up as Bradley got the man secured and walked him over to the car.

Hutch called out after him, giving orders as he scanned the distance, looking for Starsky.

"Call for more units, an ambulance and a coroner's van. We need help cleaning up this trash."

"Sure thing detective, Jerome's calling it in now."

Hutch continued to scan the horizon, anxious for a glimpse of his partner.


	7. Chapter 6

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 6**

Hutch backed up toward the structure where he'd first watched the gang. From there he'd been able to spot Starsky but now, he didn't see any sign of his partner. However he noticed a port-o-john at the crest of the hill and a figure attached to the facility. That had to be the work of his partner.

Hutch stood with his hand shading his eyes and was more concerned with the fate of his friend and not on his immediate surroundings. Suddenly, he felt a large hand encircle his throat and a knife at the side of his neck. He smelled booze and stale breath. He flinched as the knife bit, sinking slightly, denting his skin. He stood still. His eyes moved to his right, trying to see where Bradley was.

But the man with the knife pulled Hutch backwards. They were now shielded by the building. The gang member outweighed him by at least fifty pounds and shoved Hutch face first into the wooden structure.

"You ain't welcome here pig. Take this message back with you." The man hissed, his sour smell spread through Hutch's nostrils, making him nauseous.

"Throw the gun to your side." When Hutch hesitated, his captor shoved the knife in a bit deeper, his voice a harsh whisper in the blonde's ear. "Do it, pretty boy!"

Hutch complied, swallowing thickly.

The gun plopped in the dirt. His attacker held him against the splintered wood with one beefy, muscular hand. Without warning, he shoved the knife aiming for his back. Hutch grunted in pain as he received a booted kick to his back and then another to his stomach as he dropped to the ground, his arms hugging his middle. Just as he fell on his side, a shot rang out. The man with the knife didn't have time to react as the bullet sliced through his belly, dropping him to the dirt.

Instinctively, Hutch had flattened to the ground when he heard the gun fire. At first he wasn't sure where the shot had come from but then he heard Jerome yelling, so Hutch struggled to his knees, feeling dizzy.

He pressed his fingers against his neck, satisfied that it wasn't a life threatening injury. But the wound to his back hurt like hell.

Jerome reached the prone body, holding his gun at the victim until he was satisfied that he was helpless. By this time, Bradley joined them and kneeled beside Hutch, checking out his wounds. Sirens screeched in the distance until two black and white units and an ambulance pulled to a stop. Quickly, the medics joined Hutch, checking him further even though the injured man at first ignored the attention.

"Just let me go. I gotta find Starsky. Did you see him?" He didn't protest when hands grabbed at his jacket, sliding his arms out of the sleeves. But as the wound to his back was exposed to the air, Hutch sucked in his breath. He tried focusing on the horizon instead of the probing hands that inspected his injuries. He pulled away from the medics and tried to stand.

"Sir, remain still. I need to see how deep this wound is." The ambulance worker put a gauze pad against the injury to help stop the bleeding, but Hutch didn't seem to hear the command not to move.

Hutch struggled to his feet. He fought against the pain, nausea and the people who surrounded him in order to go after his partner. Just as he got to his feet, he spotted someone in the distance running toward a larger building beside the school. It wasn't Starsky but now Hutch was sure that his partner was in danger.

He shrugged off all the concerns about himself including those trying to help him and stalked off toward the building in the distance.

Meanwhile, Ronnie was having his own thrilling, scary experience. One that he wouldn't soon forget.

Ronnie never had a chance to play on the swings. No sooner had he gotten to the school playground than he saw The Blades. He wasn't about to miss an opportunity to see this group in action so he ran over closer to the run down school and hid behind a dumpster. It wasn't long before the other gang showed up. He watched as the boys circled each other and called out derogatory names and threats. Ronnie cringed as he watched the attacks begin. There were no guns but knives cut into skin and a few boys fell to the ground. Then, more trouble seemed to erupt as a red car pulled up on the street. He realized those were the same men who had interrupted his activity earlier in the day. Mesmerized, the boy stayed put as the two approached the fight which was already in progress.

He was fascinated; they were so cool and confident. He knew that some kids thought all adults and most cops were control freaks and didn't trust them but he wanted to believe that adults had the ability to make things better.

The guy wearing jeans acted like a tiger, studying the surroundings and waiting for a chance to strike. When the men took off in different directions, Ronnie decided to follow the dark-haired man. The knife fight continued but a few members backed away once they saw that cops had showed up. The boy quickly ran up the hill toward the maintenance building and found a hiding place where he could watch what would happen next.

He saw Starsky fight off a larger man than himself. He easily attached handcuffs to the guy and dragged him to a port-o- john. Ronnie laughed as he saw the otherwise scary looking dude dangling from the outhouse door. He heard him swearing and threatening the police officer. As for Starsky, he just seemed to focus on his surroundings and went about the business of stopping the violence.

Looking back toward the street, the boy heard a gun shot. He wanted to yell out to the dark-haired man, but didn't want to give himself away nor did he want to distract Starsky from his own struggle.

However, the dark- haired man was already busy with his own fight. Starsky had heard the gun fire and once the man he was fighting was secure, stopped long enough to glance in the direction of the gun shot. He couldn't see what was happening so he forced the ugly possible scenario out of his mind and concentrated on what was in front of him.

Once he heard the gun shot Ronnie hunkered closer against the dumpster, too afraid to move. Suddenly, two members of The Blades stopped about ten feet from where he hid. They stopped long enough to discuss that they wanted to go after the cop.

"I wanna get that bastard. He's the one that chained Lenny to that out- house. No one treats us like that and gets away with it." Diaz Ramada cleaned the blade of his knife against his pants, stroking it gently afterwards. He continued with his description of how he wanted Starsky to pay.

"I'm gonna slice the fucker from his neck down to his nuts!" His evil voice made Ronnie want to throw up.

"He went over there." Pointing to the hill behind the maintenance building, the second man pulled out a small pistol from under his pant leg.

"I'll stop him with this, wait and see!" They shared a laugh between them which made the young boy cover his mouth rather than let out the fear that threatened to give away his hiding place.

Diaz snarled a response, vowing to rescue one of their own.

"Alonzo ran back up there, that's where the pig went. We gotta save our brother Blade from that cop." He spat and they made some sort of fist bump together then ran in the direction they'd indicated.

Ronnie let out a ragged breath. He was really scared but somehow, he had to help the guy with the dark hair. He crawled out from his hiding place and saw that down by the fence, the blond man had everything under control. There were several bodies lying on the ground. He saw the blond man looking in his direction but didn't wait to find out if he'd been spotted. He made a bee line toward the back of the school where he was certain he'd find the cop.


	8. Chapter 7

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 7**

As he got closer, Ronnie heard voices. Two of them had to be the ones who'd stopped by his hiding place. They were loud and angry. Another voice was steady and seemed to be coaxing them to give up their weapons. He hid behind another dumpster and peaked around it to see Starsky holding off the two Blade members. He was close enough to hear the exchange but shrank back so he wouldn't be spotted.

"Listen you piece of shit, you got no business here. Just walk away and we'll let you live." The youth with the gun stepped closer as he spoke. He pointed the gun but Starsky kicked it out of his hand. The young man made the mistake of taking his eyes off his attacker and when he did, Starsky shot him in the leg.

Ronnie cringed, squeezing his eyes shut. But he had to watch. He was convinced that the cop would die if he didn't.

The gang member went down in a heap, crying out that he surrendered.

The other Blade member with the knife shouted to his ally.

"You weasel! You don't deserve to be part of our gang. I'll show you how a real Blade brother acts."

Slowly, Diaz stalked toward Starsky, who warily kept his attention on the knife in front of him.

"Just give it up kid. You put the knife down and we'll make a deal." Starsky would have preferred that Hutch was at his side, but he didn't have the luxury of waiting for help. Diaz surprised Starsky with a kick which dislodged his gun and sent it skittering out of reach. He quickly scanned the area but only saw the man with the knife coming closer. Now would be a good time for his partner to show up.

Realizing Starsky's predicament, the gang member grinned evilly at his opponent.

Waving the knife between them, Diaz spoke boldly.

"I'm gonna cut you up and feed ya to the fish!" He switched hands and continued to taunt Starsky, who smiled an indulgent, disbelieving grin.

Suddenly, the knife caught Starsky in the chest. The boy took advantage and kicked the detective in the groin. Starsky went to his knees, short of breath and wheezing.

The youth picked up a solid piece of wood that had been lying near him and cracked it over Starsky's bent head. The fallen man huffed out a painful breath and dropped to the ground, out cold.

"If you're lucky enough to live, I'll find ya and finish the job, pig." Diaz snarled at the prone body. Proud of himself, he picked up the board and threw it at his friend who was still writhing, holding his leg. The wood landed on his injured leg and he howled with the added blow to the bullet wound.

Rather than helping his friend, the Blade member ran up the slight hill through the bushes but he turned around for a moment to take in the scene, wanting to remember it so he could brag to his friends. That's when he saw the kid standing beside Starsky. Promising himself that no matter what, he'd make the kid sorry he'd interfered with the cop; Diaz spit on the ground, and then continued on up the hill.

Ronnie stood up. He didn't know what to do. Finally he went to the man with the bullet wound and picked up the piece of wood. He was afraid that either the man on the ground would get up and chase him, or the one that did all this would come back and bash his own head in. He carried it with him for protection and went over to where Starsky lay.

He stood next to him, afraid to touch him but confused as well. How could this cop let this happen? The young boy dropped to the ground beside Starsky. He held the bloody piece of wood to him as he struggled with indecision. Should he run and forget what he'd witnessed or should he stay and try to help the cop? The man was pale and his head was bleeding. Instinctively, Ronnie took a large cloth out of his pocket and pressed it on the gash. He heard him groan.

He still didn't know the man's name but he wanted to offer comfort until help arrived. He couldn't leave him in case the guy who did this came back.

"Can you hear me?" Ronnie cradled the man's head in his lap, laying the board beside him. "I'm Ronnie." The boy tried to offer comfort the best he could.

Starsky groaned again, forcing his eyes open. He blinked once then moved his hand to his head.

"No don't touch that. It's kind of gross. But your friend should be here in a minute." Ronnie pressed harder on the wound. He remembered that the knife had hit his chest, but there wasn't any blood there.

"Thanks…Name's Starsky…" The detective tried to focus on his benefactor before he lost consciousness again.

The boy looked up to see the blond man coming up the hill. He was holding his shoulder, breathing hard as he came near. But Ronnie got scared at the angry look on the man's face. He was afraid the guy was going to shoot him when all he was trying to do was help the cop on the ground.

He stood up, holding the wood in front of him as he stood beside Starsky. Having a weapon helped him feel powerful and strong. His intention was to protect them both but the other cop started yelling at him.

He couldn't deal with the anger towards him. It confused him so he threw the wood to the side and ran as fast as he could. He didn't wait to explain or help. He just wanted out of there.

"Come back here you little bastard!" Hutch turned toward the retreating figure, wanting to go after him. He hesitated until Starsky gasped, then his decision was clear.

He bent toward a silent and pale Starsky.

"What did we get ourselves into now, buddy?" Hutch grimaced at his own pain but quickly shoved it aside to take care of his friend.

Kneeling beside Starsky, he bent over the dark haired man, wincing out of frustration and pain at their situation. The wound to his shoulder burned and he could feel the blood seeping through the bandage.

He was dizzy and short of breath but refused to give in until he knew for certain about his partner.

Hutch tried to breathe deeply to clear his head but that only sharpened the pain in his shoulder and back. He wiped his forehead, which felt clammy with sweat.

He pushed his own discomfort aside as he studied Starsky's head wound. The rag was bloody but the bleeding had slowed down. Again, Hutch wondered about the young boy who had been leaning over his partner. He was curious as to what his role in all this was. He shrugged his shoulders, which again produced a slicing pain through his back. He'd have to wait for Starsky to wake up to learn more.

"Soon, buddy. You'll be okay. Hang in there." Hutch's crooning was for both of them as much as to reassure Starsky.


	9. Chapter 8

**AN UNEASY ALLIANCE**

**Chapter 8**

Hutch looked around, searching for the youngster who had run away. He hoped he'd come back and dispel the suspicion that the kid was responsible for the condition of both these men. He wanted to be wrong that a young boy could be capable of such violence.

His attention was suddenly drawn away from his friend. The detective forced himself to take stock of the situation around him. The scene down by the fence had, for the most part, been taken care of. He could see the coroner and his crew loading the bodies into the van. Hutch counted three in that category. He knew that at least three others had been wounded and one had escaped injury and according to Bradley, was on his way to BCPD.

His thoughts back to his responsibilities, he turned his attention to the injured man with the bullet wound. Hutch bent down beside the gang member and removed the red bandana that still covered his face. The young man was in too much pain to notice that his identity had been exposed.

Hutch grabbed the man's shirt and angrily pulled him to a sitting position. Struggling to calm himself and fighting off his own pain, he let the man drop back to the dirt, realizing he wouldn't get the answers he needed.

He was torn between wanting to be left alone with Starsky and doing his job as senior police detective on scene. He had to hold on to his professionalism a bit longer. True to form, Hutch felt that his lack of control had caused Starsky's injuries. If he had demanded that they wait for back up before rushing into the fight, there wouldn't have been any deaths and certainly the injuries would have been minimal, including his partner's current condition. He blamed himself even if it was an unlikely scenario.

He gave up his position beside the still writhing gang member, letting Bradley take over the responsibility of the young man.

"I don't see Starsky's gun around, so I doubt he shot this scum." Hutch held his arm against his stomach, trying to find a comfortable position for his injury. Bradley helped him look further, but neither came up with it.

"When I got here I saw a kid standing over Starsky with that board in his hand," Hutch motioned with his head toward the piece of bloody wood. "Don't know if he's responsible for either one of these injuries but I'd like to get my hands around his throat just the same."

Bradley listened as he searched in the thug's pockets and along the lower extremities, looking for weapons. Satisfied that this man didn't pose a threat, the policeman pulled him to a standing position, not overly concerned with the injury he had sustained.

"This one will live." Bradley directed his comment to Hutch who was bending over Starsky. Knowing how close the two men were, he tried to reassure Detective Hutchinson that every thing was under control and that he didn't expect Hutch to leave his injured partner.

"Hey Hutch, the medics will be here soon. Me and the boys can finish up. You just concentrate on getting your partner taken care of." Holding firmly to the injured man in his grasp, Bradley watched as Hutch slowly inspected the wound to his partner's head. The detective on the ground had not made any sounds, not even a moan. That worried Bradley but at the moment, his business was to get the gang member down to the waiting police van and escort him to the hospital.

Diverting his attention away from the blond and his partner, Bradley attended to the young man who was crying in pain. His brave exterior had crumbled and certainly he was no longer the hot headed, confident gang member who'd earlier been wielding a knife.

"Everyone's accounted for and either being sent to the station or hospital." He glanced at Hutch for confirmation then proceeded to drag the whimpering man down the hill to the ambulance.

Hutch acknowledged what Bradley had said but didn't stop checking Starsky's wounds. The man on the ground didn't respond as Hutch removed the jacket and unbuttoned the shirt to inspect what was underneath the jagged rip in the material.

Fortunately, it wasn't much worse than Hutch's wound to his neck so he concentrated on his partner's unconscious condition.

Starsky's dark curls were wet with blood. Hutch took the cloth away to inspect the area where the wood had connected. He saw large splinters imbedded in the scalp. He wanted to remove them but knew that it would be safer for Starsky to receive care in the sterile environment of a hospital. He looked up once to watch Officer Bradley leading the still complaining injured man to the police car. Hutch blinked rapidly, annoyed at the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes.

Instead of cradling Starsky as he craved, Hutch knelt beside his friend. He didn't want to move him until the medics got a chance to confirm that there wasn't any permanent damage. But he rested his hand on Starsky's shoulder in an attempt to help his friend.

"C'mon Starsky. Who did this?" Hutch searched for signs of recognition or at the very least, for evidence that Starsky had heard him. But he never moved, his eyes never fluttered open nor did he make any sound. The worried blond grabbed Starsky's hand in a desperate need for closeness.

He squeezed the other's hand, willing Starsky to respond. He was surprised when exactly that happened. He felt a weak pressure in his own hand but still no word came from the silent body.

"Atta boy, you're in there somewhere. Easy now, it's gonna be alright." Hutch squeezed again and rubbed his other hand along Starsky's arm, offering comfort to them both.

He was lost in his concern for Starsky so didn't immediately comprehend that someone was pushing him out of the way, gently but firmly.

"Hutch, I need to check him out. Give me some room." Dennis got out his equipment, giving Hutch time to accept the help.

He sat back on his heels, hands resting on his thighs as he watched Dennis take a blood pressure reading.

He badly wanted to reach out to let Starsky know he wasn't alone when the man on the ground began to moan. Heedless of the warning from Dennis, Hutch leaned closer, touching his friend, consoling him but at the same time keeping out of the medic's way.

Dennis took an inordinate amount of time checking Starsky's blood pressure, repeating the procedure more than Hutch thought was necessary.

"What's wrong? How is he?" Anxious to know more, Hutch reached out to get the medic's attention. Dennis waved him off as he continued to listen to his patient's heart beat.

Dennis continued to explore Starsky's extremities for other signs of injury. Without stopping his exam, he spoke quickly but clearly.

"We need to get him to the hospital right away. It's gotta be St. Cloud Medical Center. There isn't time…" Hutch suddenly grabbed Dennis' shirt, pulling him closer.

"What do you mean?" Hutch's voice quivered with concern as he stared at the man in front of him. Dennis pulled himself free of Hutch, not taking the detective's anger personally. Even though the eyes that bored into his own were an icy blue, Dennis understood the tight bond between partners and these two were no exception.

He began to pack up his equipment. He inspected once more the wound to Starsky's head and just as Hutch stood up, two other medics arrived, dragging two stretchers with them.

Speaking quickly, Dennis informed his co-workers the necessity for speed and that SCMC was closer than Memorial Hospital.

When Hutch stood toe to toe with Dennis, the medic took in a deep breath before he spoke. He knew Hutch would want the truth, but they had to get his partner to the hospital without delay.

"Detective, I'll be honest with you. The blow to his head is serious. His vital signs are very weak. I'm worried that he hasn't regained consciousness. But we can't waste any more time standing here. You need attended to as well."

Dennis reached out, steadying Hutch as his knees buckled. Therefore no argument occurred when he led the detective to the other gurney.

Hutch laid back, his head turned toward Starsky. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his arm which felt numb. Still facing his friend, he tried to flex his fingers but realized that they didn't respond. He looked at his hand which felt that it wasn't attached to his body. Giving in to his fear, he didn't complain when Dennis began taking his blood pressure.

Once the medic removed the stethoscope, Hutch spoke haltingly.

"I ca-can't feel my arm." Hutch's eyes clouded with concern, all of the sudden reality of his own problem settled in around him.

Dennis examined the extremity and the wound; however his face held no reaction for Hutch to read.

"It's time for you to let us take care of both of you now, Hutch. Just let me take over." Hutch's eyes closed, his breathing evened out, convincing Dennis that Hutch had lost consciousness.


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Hutch felt himself slipping, his surroundings growing dim. Emotionally, his desire to keep vigil over Starsky wilted as his own injuries threatened to consume him. It was easier to keep his eyes closed and let himself be transferred to the ambulance.

While the medics were busy carefully maneuvering the gurneys down to the waiting emergency vehicles, Dennis voiced his concerns about their charges.

"Bernie, make sure they both are loaded in the same ambulance. They're partners."

"Since Starsky's injuries are more severe, shouldn't he go ahead of Hutchinson?"

"These guys are close. Yeah, they're police partners and that in itself means they work together every day. But these two, well, it's legendary around town that they not only work as a well oiled machine, but they just have this weird connection between them." When he saw Bernie's quizzical look, he tried to explain since Bernie was new to the ambulance crew and to Bay City.

"These two men are connected in a way that not many people ever experience. You've seen already how Hutchinson has pushed himself to stay clear enough to keep track of his partner's condition. If it were any other man, he woulda given in long ago due to blood loss or pain, but not Detective Hutchinson. "

"Starsky's pretty bad off and if we don't get him proper treatment soon.." Dennis' voice trailed off as he watched Bernie take another blood pressure reading on Starsky. As if to prove his point, Hutch groaned and gasped. Bernie watched in awe as the blond man turned toward his partner, even though he seemed to be unconscious. Dennis checked Hutch's heart rate again and wasn't surprised when all readings had elevated.

Dennis inclined his head toward the other medic. Bernie was convinced of the need for quick action.

The first thing Hutch became aware of was a dark pair of brown eyes that met his own as he regained consciousness. He gasped as someone else rolled him on his side. He focused on Peggy's strong voice as she oriented him regarding his injuries and what was going on around him.

St. Cloud Medical Center was one of the best hospitals in the area. Its trauma center was one of the top rated in the state. It was a teaching hospital which meant that area medical students received invaluable experience.

Hutch learned all this while he was being examined and treated in the emergency room. This was very good to know but he hadn't yet been told anything about his partner's condition.

He'd been asking about Starsky since he had awakened in the hospital emergency room. At first, there were too many other things going on for anybody to answer his specific question. They were all too interested in if he was dizzy, when he'd last had a tetanus shot, or if the numbness he'd experience earlier had disappeared. To the last question, Hutch had to admit that his arm felt weak and the fingers still numb.

The knife wound to his shoulder required stitches and muscle repair. While it wasn't a life threatening injury, he would need surgery to fix the damage. His doctor was surprised when Hutch adamantly refused a pain killer until it was time to be sedated for surgery.

As the doctor examined the wound, he'd questioned Hutch about the previous scars that were still visible and essentially in the same area as the recent knife injury.

"I've been shot a few times and knifed once or twice in the same shoulder. I'm beginning to think there's a bull's eye tattooed to that part of my body." Hutch tried to laugh. Instead he winced and took in a ragged breath as the doctor continued exploring the area. The doctor shook his head, dumbfounded by Hutch's self control and tolerance to pain.

For Hutch, it wasn't so much his ability to deal with the pain that he'd refused all pain blockers, but rather, he just needed to stay focused until he had some word on his partner's condition.

"Will you quit poking at my shoulder and just tell me where my partner is?" Hutch tried to swipe at the probing hands in order to get Peggy to pay attention to his more serious current problem.

"Yes sir. I'll go find out his condition. I'll be back shortly." Peggy checked the setting on the IV drip before she left.

Fifteen minutes later, Hutch was tired of waiting and decided to go in search of his friend on his own.

Dressed only in the threadbare hospital gown, he briefly wondered if he really wanted to walk around with not much other than his smile to cover him, but his desire to find Starsky outweighed his physical discomfort.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He waited until the dizziness subsided before he attempted to stand up. He was still connected to an IV of antibiotics so he pushed it in front of him as he made his way down the row of exam cubicles, looking for Starsky.

Fortunately, three rooms later, he found his partner. Hutch was glad he didn't have to go much further. As luck would have it, there was a chair beside Starsky's bed so he gratefully sank into the hard plastic seat and waited until the spots of light quit blinking behind his eyes.

Starsky wore a white turban of gauze and bandages around his head. His face was black and blue and swollen. He also had an IV going into one hand and his blood pressure was being monitored continuously. The steady beep of the heart monitor was reassuring to Hutch but he'd rather hear from Starsky himself as to how he was feeling.

He reached out for Starsky's hand, slightly worried that it was cold. But then again, hospitals were always cold. They had been in enough of them to expect this. Hutch was sure that it was because when you're injured or sick, your system just didn't respond normally plus the fact that for the most part you are immobile, which slows your metabolism. The stress and shock due to injury or worry, all contributed to being cold. As for Starsky, he always grumbled that when you're mostly naked with only a paper sack to wear, of course you're gonna be cold.

Hutch smiled, remembering Starsky's constant grousing about hospitals, wishing to hear just one word from his partner.

As Hutch sat, waiting for Starsky to wake up, a doctor entered the room. He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and set them on the bridge of his nose. Looking over the top of them at Hutch, he concluded:

"So you must be Ken Hutchinson, the one Peggy's been looking for."

Hutch reached out and accepted the handshake offered by the plump doctor. "I'm Dr. Davidson. It's unusual to have a patient wandering around the emergency room but I see you've found what you were looking for."

Returning the doctor's level gaze, Hutch spoke with authority of his own.

"No one could tell me anything about my partner, so I came for my own answers." Hutch watched as the doctor pulled back Starsky's eye lids and checked them with his pen light.

He grunted with satisfaction then studied the monitor before he spoke again.

'Your friend is doing fine. He should be waking up soon. He's got twenty stitches to his head plus we pulled out several large wood splinters. A mild knife wound to his chest which is of no concern. It's no worse than what you sustained to your neck."

Hutch reached up to the side of his throat, touching the gauze that covered his own experience with a knife.

"However, he's not out of the woods yet. We already did a scan of his head and so far there is no swelling or bleeding within." The doctor made a few notes on Starsky's chart before he continued.

"We'll continue to monitor him closely. If there's a buildup of pressure in his brain, then we'd have to go in surgically to relieve it."

Seeing Hutch's back stiffen at this serious piece of news, Dr. Davidson was quick to put the man at ease and reverted to his sense of humor.

"Of course he's got a whopper of a concussion." Dr. Davidson suppressed a smile at Hutch's raised brow.

"Yes, that's a medical term in case you're wondering. Concussions come in many stages. Either they are tiny, doozies or whoppers." The men shared a laugh which made Hutch feel better. He relaxed against the back of the chair until a sharp pain reminded him of why he was in the hospital in the first place. But a doctor with a sense of humor was always preferred. Hutch knew that Starsky would be more compliant if he could banter with a doctor rather than be given orders by a serious and stuffy medical practitioner.

"Thanks for the information." Hutch smiled slightly as he continued to study his partner's face. Starsky was still pale, but when Hutch reached for his hand, noted that it was warmer than before.

"I'll let Peggy know where you are and that I approved of your remaining but you must promise me something." The doctor waited until he had Hutch's attention.

"See that bed next to you? Get in it and try to relax. I'm sure they'll be coming to take you to surgery soon." Dr. Davidson returned Starsky's chart to the foot of the bed, then walked over to Hutch and helped him into the other bed.


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

No sooner did the doctor leave than the over head speaker system started a cacophony of pages for doctors: the names grouped together in quick succession, the disembodied voice sounding breathless and tense.

Hutch watched as activity outside their cubicle picked up, nurses rushing to their stations, gurneys pushed by quick moving orderlies along with more names and codes being sent over the speaker system.

He sat up just as Peggy rushed in with a clip board in her hands.

"Detective, your surgery is being delayed. There has been a serious multi vehicle accident with many injuries, requiring the use of all operating rooms."

She tapped her pencil on the paper in front of her, looking over at Hutch to be sure he understood.

Waiting only to see his head nodding that he had heard her, she turned around, already giving orders to the nurses who had grouped around the main emergency room station.

Realizing that he had gained extra time to be with Starsky, Hutch got out of bed and returned to sit next to his friend.

Reaching for Starsky's hand, Hutch wanted him to know that he wasn't alone.

"Things aren't so bad buddy. I just need you to wake up now and tell me that yourself." He squeezed the warm hand, but unlike before, there was no answering pressure in his own.

After a few minutes, Hutch leaned forward, releasing Starsky's hand but reaching to touch his shoulder. He would have preferred to run his hand down Starsky's neck, but with the bandages that covered his head, he didn't want to disturb the covering.

Hutch blinked against the pain in his shoulder, but he still wasn't ready to accept any sort of pain medication until he knew that Starsky would be alright.

He blinked again because he wasn't sure that what he saw had actually happened. He watched closer, as Starsky's mouth opened slightly, his tongue searching lips for moisture.

Hutch searched until he found the pitcher of water. He dipped his fingers into liquid and ran his thumb across Starsky's dry lips. Immediately, his tongue snaked out, lapping up the moisture. Hutch repeated the act which was followed by more noises deep in Starsky's chest.

"It's okay now. C'mon Starsk, I'm right here. Open your eyes." Hutch continued to encourage him as Starsky struggled to open his eyes. Several times the lids fluttered, only to clamp shut quickly, almost as if the light was too bright.

Hutch stood up and turned off the fluorescent brightness above Starsky's head. He also pushed the call button but didn't expect an answer anytime soon what with the emergency room still buzzing with activity.

Starsky again worked to open his eyes. He licked his mouth a few times and then his eyes opened and remained that way. His blue orbs darted to each side of him, taking in his surroundings. Then, he turned his head slightly, which resulted in a gasp of pain. He closed his eyes again and instead reached out; searching for the one thing he knew that would steady him. He was rewarded with the feel of the calloused, large hand of his friend. He squeezed slightly and tried to bring their two hands to his chest in a weak hug. He felt the answering pressure and knew that he was now safe.

"Welcome back, partner." Hutch's hand remained on Starsky's chest, feeling the comforting rise and fall of his breathing.

"Hurts…, dizzy." It took a lot of effort to get those few words formed and spoken. Starsky blinked rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings.

"Don't try to talk. Just breathe deeply." Hutch scanned the hall outside of the room, looking for Peggy or anyone who he could report Starsky's condition to. He was reluctant to push the call button again, but just as he'd decided that this patient was important too, Peggy appeared, harried but focused now on the reason for the call from this specific room.

"Well, you've decided to join us. How do you feel?" She checked his vital signs, the monitor and head wound and was satisfied that all was in order.

"Head… hurts…" Starsky repeated. This time he tried to touch his head, but Hutch gently guided his hand back to join with his own.

"Do you know where you are?" She bent closely so Starsky could focus on her.

"Hospital." Starsky tried to look around, but any movement of his head created pain and increased his nausea. He swallowed, desperately wanting water. His eyes darted toward Hutch again.

Hutch held up the water pitcher toward Peggy, silently asking if he could have a drink.

She nodded but indicated that he should only offer a few sips.

Hutch guided the cup toward Starsky's mouth. The dark-haired man lapped up the cool liquid, swiping his tongue over his lips once more to take advantage of each drop.

"Better, thanks." The water seemed to have revived him. His eyes looked clearer and his face began to take on his natural olive tone.

Peggy told Hutch that his surgery would be in about an hour. The casualties from the car accident were being well taken care of; some of them had been transferred to Memorial Hospital in Bay City.

"Our usual hang out." Starsky's attempt at humor reassured Hutch that his friend was okay while it gave Peggy an indication that her patient was able to follow and participate in normal conversation. She noted that in his chart before she left.

Starsky was quiet for a few minutes, giving Hutch the impression that he'd fallen asleep. His own body sagged with fatigue. The stress of his own injury plus that of his partner's was catching up to him. The bed seemed like a good place to be at the moment. He got up gingerly to do just that when Starsky spoke, this time with more energy in his voice.

"You okay Hutch? I remember…" He hesitated briefly, fighting off the details that threatened to escape him.

"I heard gun shots. I couldn't help you. Thought you'd been…"

Hutch moved toward the bed, sitting beside Starsky. The softness of the mattress beckoned him to go to his own bed, but not before he reassured Starsky.

"I'm okay. I got knifed in the shoulder. Waiting to go to surgery, but I'll be fine." Hutch shook his head. It never failed to amaze him that no matter how ill or serious a wound his partner had, he always managed to think of Hutch's well being and safety. But he supposed it went both ways, as he pressed his hand against his own wound.

He sighed heavily, and then dragged himself over to fall gratefully into his own bed.


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

The dark-haired man had been dozing when he was awakened by a gurney hitting the edge of his bed.

"What the hell?" He woke with a start, causing the pain to return to his head. He refrained from further complaint once he saw that it was Hutch finally being brought to their room.

The man laying on the gurney was pale and of course silent. Starsky pushed himself further up in bed, wincing as a burning pain crept up his neck into his head. But he wanted to see for himself that Hutch was okay.

The doctor followed his patient into the room. Doing a cursory exam, the medical practitioner was satisfied that Hutch was in stable condition.

"He okay?" Starsky whispered, not because he was afraid to awaken Hutch, but keeping his voice low, lessened the pressure that still pounded against his eyes.

"Stitches, repair of muscle and tendon, rest, he'll be fine." The doctor droned on with technical terms but left soon after.

Now it was Starsky's turn to wait for Hutch to wake up. Several hours had passed since the blond went to surgery. In that time, Starsky was moved to a regular room with assurances that his partner would be brought there after surgery. Starsky could not fathom being in a strange setting without his partner.

Although he was left with a stabbing, constant headache, the doctor had concluded that it was a residual effect of the concussion which would diminish but take time. A repeat head scan did not show any swelling or signs of bleeding so for the time being, Starsky would have to endure the pain since nothing yet seemed to have reduced the throbbing in his head.

At least now he could move without the burning sharpness and flashes of light he'd experienced earlier. Turning, he noticed that Hutch seemed to be struggling to awaken. The after effects of anesthesia always made Hutch disoriented and nervous at first. Starsky gingerly sat further up in the bed and swung his legs over the side, intending to get up and sit with Hutch. He tried to ignore the pain in his head and waited until the dizziness subsided. He hadn't been told not to get up, but he guessed that doing so for the first time alone, wasn't the best idea he'd ever had.

Holding on to the night table that sat between their beds, Starsky cautiously shuffled toward Hutch, then sitting heavily beside him on the bed. He tried to breathe evenly through his nose to counteract the spinning room.

Hutch moved his head toward Starsky even though his eyes were still closed. Starsky reached to stroke his head, letting his friend know that he wasn't alone. Slowly, the pale lashes fluttered up, revealing clear blue eyes. He blinked a few times then, ran his hand through his hair. He rolled to his side and groaned with pain.

"Easy there big guy. I'm here." Starsky spoke quietly until he was sure Hutch was fully awake. Hutch looked around and gave a tired smile as he focused on Starsky.

He stared at the dark-haired man as his thoughts began to take shape. Remembering what had happened, he reached for Starsky.

Hutch's voice was still raspy from the anesthetic when he spoke.

"You okay?" He put his hand to his throat which was dry and sore.

Starsky reached for the water beside the bed. His hand shook as he poured. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to sit up, but his desire to be with Hutch outweighed his need to rest for the moment.

He helped Hutch drink then set the cup back on the bedside table.

"Your surgery went well. You just need to rest now."

"How's your head?" Hutch tried sitting up but the stitches pulled in his shoulder and he winced at the pain. Starsky reached out again, guiding Hutch back against the pillow.

"Feels like Huggy's back with his jackhammer routine in there, but the doc says I'll be fine."

"Seems like we were lucky once again partner." Hutch coughed, working to dislodge the gravely feel in his throat.

"I couldn't be there to watch your back. When I heard that gun go off, I was sure you'd been hit." Starsky slid into bed beside Hutch. He didn't want to go to his own but his head felt heavy and he needed support for his back. Hutch made room for him, sliding across the mattress.

"I wonder what happened to Ronnie." Starsky closed his eyes, thinking back to the voice that had been so kind.

"Who?"

"Ronnie, the kid who helped me. I don't remember much else."

"You mean that scrawny kid who was standing over you with that bloody piece of wood?" Hutch shook his head, thinking that Starsky's memory certainly had been affected if he thought the young boy had helped him.

Starsky winced against the pain as he sat up. But he was sure that Ronnie wasn't the one who'd hit him.

"I don't think it was him that did it." He spoke slowly, trying to recall the sequence of events. "One of the gang members tried to knife me and that's when I went down. He was the one that hit me then. Ronnie showed up and tried to wipe away the blood."

Hutch reached his uninjured arm over his head, shielding his eyes. Suddenly he understood that Ronnie had only been trying to protect Starsky.

"I guess when I came charging up the hill, he thought I was gonna attack him and that's when he ran off."

"You can be pretty scary looking when you want to." They shared a laugh but Starsky had reached his limit of tolerance to the pain. He gasped with the sharpness that spread through his head and neck. Moving gingerly, he sat up, grateful for Hutch's arm on his back, supporting him.

Watching closely as Starsky made his way back to bed, Hutch thought about the young man he'd seen with Starsky. Feeling guilty that he'd treated the young man so harshly, he began thinking of a way to make it up to his partner.

Once Starsky was settled back in bed, Hutch sank back against his own pillows, not yet ready to give in to the fatigue that he felt seeping into his body.

"I'm sorry Starsk. I just thought that kid was up to no good. Besides, I think it was the same little thief we saw trying to steel Delight's purse." Hutch settled in among the sheets as he struggled to continue their conversation.

"Could be." Starsky yawned. The earlier pain medication seemed to finally be kicking in. "If that's true, we should try and find him." Yawning again, Starsky closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.

Further away in Bay City...

Ronnie was too wound up to go back to his home. The things he'd seen during the gang's fight had frightened him badly. He'd never witnessed such hatred as he saw between the two groups.

Thinking back to the cop named Starsky, Ronnie wondered what ever happened to him. He wished he'd stayed around to find out more, but when the blond cop appeared and started yelling at him, he couldn't think of anything else but to escape. Besides, the piercing blue eyes of the cop had practically burned a whole in Ronnie's stomach. Looking back, he supposed it did look as if he was the one responsible for Starsky's injuries, since the other cop had found him holding the wood over the injured man's head.

He couldn't forget how Starsky had been so still or how his wound bled. He'd done the best he could, trying to stop the bleeding with his rag. The man had aroused enough to speak a few words, including his name. He wondered if Starsky would remember who it was that had helped him.

Ronnie became anxious, wondering if he'd been followed by anyone from either gang. He stopped to crouch in the doorway of a store and peeked down the street; fearful of whom he might see. He got up and began walking aimlessly, intent on keeping away from the place he called home.

After about an hour, he stopped as he realized he wasn't walking on cement anymore. The dirt under his feet was flaky and dry. This was a new area to him so he first checked back the way he'd come until he was satisfied that he hadn't been followed.

There was a run down building off to the side but at first there wasn't anyone around. But there were plenty of cars.

Ronnie walked closer, glancing all around him at the cars in various stages of repair. He noticed some of the vehicles had been stripped while others looked as if they were in the process of being worked on. Still others had been outfitted with fancy seat covers and distinctive paint jobs.

He was fascinated by all he saw. He liked cars and recalled helping his brother change the oil in the family vehicle. His brother Dylan had worked on whatever car he was driving and Ronnie enjoyed watching and helping when he could. He was looking under the hood of one of the cars when all of the sudden some guy yelled at him to get off the car.

"Hey you! What you want there? Get lost!" Ronnie backed away but didn't run off. The man was an old black guy, with a dirty rag sticking out of his shirt pocket. He pulled it out to wipe his hands as he walked closer to the car.

"Huh, you better not've messed with this piece of art work." Merle glanced under the hood. Once he was satisfied that nothing had been broken or stolen, he stepped back to take a look at the youngster in front of him.

The boy seemed like a scrawny troublemaker to Merle but he looked his visitor in the eye. He stuck out his hand in greeting but when the boy didn't respond, Merle shrugged his shoulders and started to walk away.

As he did, he spoke over his shoulder. "The name's Merle, and this here is my place. You're welcome to come back if ya want."

Ronnie stood watching as Merle returned to the garage where he heard shrill equipment noise. He wasn't sure what to make of this guy but he didn't stick around to take him up on his offer.

He looked one more time at the cars in different stages of repair and saw Merle standing at the entrance to the garage, watching him. Merle waved but Ronnie kept on walking.


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

By the end of the week, Starsky's dizziness had completely disappeared, although his headaches remained. They were intense but less frequent.

As for Hutch, he was up and moving about. His arm alternated between numbness and a tingling down to his fingers.

Reluctantly, their doctor agreed to sign their discharge papers. His arguments against leaving were shot down one by one with calm and rational explanations from both men, particularly when Starsky pointed out that if all he was allowed to do was rest, why not at home?

Since they were both off, the guys decided to stay at Starsky's. His headaches were unpredictable and when they occurred, he needed to remain in a darkened room with little or no sound.

Huggy picked them up from the hospital in Hutch's LTD. Starsky wasn't allowed to drive and even he saw the sense in waiting to drive until they had disappeared.

A few days into their recuperation, Starsky had taken over the cooking while Hutch looked after his friend. Neither one ever liked taking medication but in this case, Starsky's headaches were greatly relieved when he took them at the first sign of symptoms. Hutch knew his friend so well, that he could tell exactly when a migraine was forming just by the look in Starsky's eyes.

Hutch's injury made it difficult to do normal things such as shaving, dressing and cooking.

"You ready for lunch?" Starsky had been puttering in the kitchen, making all sorts of noises, for the past hour.

Hutch silently praised his friend for the breakfast that had lured him out of the bathroom this morning due to the delicious aromas. Eggs, French toast and coffee had been on the table as he followed his nose to the kitchen. Pleasantly surprised at Starsky's skill, Hutch enjoyed every mouthful. Now that it was lunch time, his stomach grumbled and his mouth watered as other aromas promised to tempt his appetite.

He made himself comfortable at the table as Starsky served him their food.

"Never thought you'd be so domestic. I'm impressed." Hutch spoke around a mouthful of fish.

"You just never gave me the opportunity to prove myself." Starsky stabbed his fork in the air, making his point. He went back to spearing broccoli as he smiled at his roommate.

The quiet that surrounded them was friendly and easy as they concentrated on eating and once their plates were empty, they worked together to clean up the kitchen.

Later, they sat in the living room, Hutch reading while Starsky rested on the couch. His body was tired but his mind refused to rest.

"I wanna go find Ronnie." Starsky sat up, elbows resting on his knees.

Hutch laid the book in his lap and stretched his shoulder. The pain was still there when he flexed his fingers but they weren't tingling.

The image of the young boy standing over Starsky with a bloody weapon wasn't someone he thought his partner should get involved with.

As far as Hutch was concerned, the kid might be just another street urchin, refusing help, especially from a cop.

"Now?" He watched as Starsky slid into his sneakers. Once Starsky made up his mind about something, there was no delay in following through.

'Yeah, I feel like I could help him. If he's involved in petty theft but thoughtful enough to try and help me, maybe it's not too late for him."

Starsky tentatively touched the top of his head. The stitches pulled, making his scalp feel tight. He was restless and needed to focus on something other than himself.

"I guess we could go back to the place where we chased him away from stealing the old lady's purse. " Hutch thought carefully before continuing. He felt he knew what was coming.

"Why him?" Hutch asked, but felt he already knew the answer. The dark-haired man sighed as he looked over at his friend.

"Because, maybe if I help him, then he won't end up..." Unable to continue the thought, Hutch finished it for him.

"…like Nicky?" Hutch moved over to the couch and massaged Starsky's knee.

'Nicky isn't your responsibility. He's made his own choices." For a moment Starsky's eyes grew dark, his mouth set in a thin line. He controlled the urge to answer back with an angry remark, but in his heart, he knew Hutch was right. But the ghosts of his childhood refused to fade into the background.

"If I'da been there to watch out for him, he wouldn't have gotten involved in the same gang that Ma worked so hard to get me away from. No wonder he hates me. I got sent to California while he had to stay behind with a mother he resented."

Hutch was familiar with this guilty worry of Starsky's. They'd spent many nights over countless beers hashing out the sibling rivalry.

"I doubt Ronnie is part of either gang. He doesn't fit their profile." Hutch sat back against the couch, thinking about the young boy with the bloody piece of wood in his hands and the angry look in his eyes.

"I don't think so either.", Starsky mused as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pricks of pain that were beginning to pester him.

"I don't remember much except he told me his name. I doubt he woulda done that if he had just beaten me up." Starsky let out a small laugh and rubbed the side of his head.

"True, but why was he there in the first place?" Hutch sat forward again, noticing the way Starsky was massaging his temples. Without a word, he got up, went to the kitchen and got the medication his friend needed when a headache started. Most times, it helped lessen the severity to the point that Starsky could still function without retreating to a dark, silent bedroom.

Coming back to the couch, he handed Starsky a glass of water and the pill. The dark-haired man looked up, took the pill without question and drank the water.

"Thanks buddy." He set the empty glass on the coffee table, leaned back against the couch and propped his feet up on the furniture in front of him.

"Maybe he was just there doing what any normal kid does… play." Hutch sat forward, listening to what Starsky said and suddenly something clicked into place.

"Yeah, he must've just gotten stuck there when the fight started and stayed around to watch." Hutch leaned forward, his hands folded together. He thought about Kiko and understood how important a stable adult could be to an impressionable teen.

Getting back to Ronnie, Hutch remembered the bloody rag he found near Starsky. "Now that I think about it, he was trying to help you. Once I got to you, I found a cloth near you and wondered where it'd come from."

"Well, if ya hadn't chased him away, you coulda asked him." Starsky's tone was stern, but the glint in his eye told Hutch that the man was teasing, perhaps already feeling better, the medication derailing his pain.

Hutch stood up, pacing to the other side of the room. He understood why Starsky felt responsible but sometimes, he couldn't come up with the right words to help his friend. Instead of responding right away, he went to his jacket that hung over the kitchen chair, fished the car keys out of it and jangled them in his hand as he walked back to Starsky.

"C'mon, let's go. But I'm driving." Hutch smiled to himself at the good natured teasing from his friend about the car.

"Maybe on our way home, we can stop at Merle's and see if he can give that tin can of yours a tune up."

Trading insults about each other's car, they left the house arm in arm.


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

The first time Ronnie showed up at Merle's, he just looked around without saying anything to the old black man. He'd been invited back and for some reason, Ronnie liked the man and felt safe with him. It took him a few days to actually stay long enough to watch the mechanic at work.

The third time Ronnie appeared, Merle ignored him. He continued the work he'd been doing on an old Chevrolet but didn't speak to the boy. He figured that the kid was skittish, like an abandoned animal that had to learn to trust again. So he fiddled with tools, made noises of frustration and made room as Ronnie sidled up to the car, watching as the mechanic seemed to struggle with what he was trying to do.

Without a word, Ronnie handed him what was needed and moved a little closer as Merle made the adjustment.

Glancing sideways, he winked at his guest, and then switched the toothpick he was chewing on to the other side of his mouth.

"You see the torque wrench around?" Merle put his hand out, expecting the tool to appear and wasn't surprised when the instrument met his palm.

Continuing to work, the mechanic spoke to Ronnie who watched and handed tools when necessary.

"You seem to know your way around a ve-hicle." Merle spoke the last word as only he could. It made Ronnie grin for the first time.

"I used to help my brother." Ronnie stepped back as Merle wiped his hands on a greasy rag.

"You want a job?" That's how the boy came to be there when Starsky and Hutch pulled up in the battered LTD.

Merle identified the car and owner before he even looked up from under the hood of the car he'd been working on. He inspected the work Ronnie was doing before he went to join the two detectives.

"Ya can't leave that piece a junk in the middle of my lot! It'll attract all kinds of pests." Secretly, Merle liked both of these men, but felt it was his duty to give them both, particularly Hutch, a hard time.

"Starsky, I'm leaving. I told you this was a bad idea." Hutch stalked off, playing the game that was expected of him.

Starsky watched Hutch walk away, then held his hands up in front of him, signaling Merle to calm down.

In a low tone, meant only for Merle, Starsky confided in the mechanic.

"Look, you and I both agree that Hutch's car is an eye sore." Starsky wagged his eye brows, and moved in closer to shut out Hutch.

"But you understand how attached people get to their cars. Hutch can't help it."

Merle tipped his hat back on his head and folded his arms in front of him. He watched as Hutch dug in the dirt with his foot, like a kid drawing a line in the dust, daring his enemy to cross it.

"It is true, Starkinson, that beau-tey is in the eye of the beholder." Merle gave his own spin on even the most common words, making his speech often hard to follow but impossible to ignore.

Starsky whistled to get his friend's attention. As Hutch looked in their direction, the dark-haired man motioned with his hand for the blond to join them.

Acting as referee, Starsky kept space between Hutch and Merle but spoke on behalf of them both.

"Hutch, you agreed to bring that… the LTD…" Starsky coughed dramatically for the mechanic's benefit and winked for only Hutch to see.

"… You agreed 'cause the car stalled out several times today. Merle's just gonna check it over and make any adjustments to get it runnin' smooth again, okay?" He looked to Merle for confirmation and satisfied at the man's slight nod, he searched Hutch's face for acceptance. Slowly, Hutch stuck out his hand to Merle, who grimaced but shook the proffered hand.

"Now, I'm goin' to use your phone, Merle and call Huggy to come pick us up, 'cause that way, you can have it over night. That'll give ya time to fix whatever needs fixin', agreed?"

A big sigh from Hutch was all he offered while Merle wandered over to the dented LTD.

Starsky turned toward the office but stopped when he didn't see Merle's regular helper.

"Hey, where's Pete?" Merle threw his rag on the hood of Hutch's car before he answered.

"That turkey up and left last week. Turns out, he's wanted in another state for check fraud, among other things." He walked back toward the two men, making unsettling noises under his breath.

"But he worked for you for a long time, didn't he?" Hutch asked, annoyed that the one employee that he'd liked wasn't smart enough to keep above the law. He might have issues with the flamboyant Merle, but the man really did know cars and how to fix even the most cantankerous vehicle, Hutch's car a case in point.

"Yeah. I just hope I'm not sorry I hired the kid in there." Merle pointed to the garage. They all watched as a pair of legs stuck out from underneath a car. It was then that Starsky noticed a familiar jacket hanging on a hook just inside the garage.

"I don't want a repeat of another Pete, ya know?" Merle cackled at his own joke, realizing it was pretty lame, but he figured if ya didn't laugh at life, then it would drag you down every time there was a problem facing you.

Starsky started back to the garage and stopped as he got to the car being worked on. He circled the car, stopping in front of the jacket hanging on the hook. He quickly searched the pockets, finding only a lighter and an old watch. He put them back then kicked at the legs.

"Hey you, come out here."

The body under the car stilled, then the boy slid out and stood up. Ronnie's eyes grew wide as he recognized Starsky. Hutch had been watching but when the kid stood up, he hurried to Starsky's side. That motion startled Ronnie and as he recognized the blond, he backed further into the garage.

"Ronnie? It's me Starsky. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I just wanna talk." Ronnie kept his eyes on Hutch, wanting to believe Starsky but unsure of the other's motives.

With the car between them, Ronnie stared first at Starsky but pointed over the man's shoulder at Hutch.

"What about him? He hates me."

Starsky leaned over the roof of the car which only prompted Ronnie to back up against the wall behind him.

"Nah, Hutch is just grumpy sometimes. He's actually pretty cool." Starsky changed position, twisting to face Hutch. For his part, the blond held his hands up in front of him as a sign that he meant no harm. Instead of entering Merle's office through the garage, he went back outside and entered that way, rather than startle Ronnie further by getting any closer than was necessary. He'd go call Huggy and leave Starsky with the kid.

"You're okay? I was real scared when I saw all that blood." Ronnie came around to the front of the car, watching as Hutch disappeared.

"Yeah, sure. I really appreciate your help. Wanna go grab a burger? Our friend is picking us up and he owns a bar…." Starsky broke off the invitation at the wary look that crossed the boy's face. He was about to move closer to the boy and reach out with a friendly, inclusive gesture when the atmosphere between them changed.

Ronnie suddenly had an angry look in his eyes. His mouth set in a stubborn line. He backed away, looking for a way out which made Starsky wince.

"Ya can't fool me, I know how this works. You pretend to like me while he's in there callin' the juvie police to put me away." The boy kicked the car's tire in frustration. It didn't help matters when Hutch returned to the garage, standing in the entrance, his hands on his hips. Ronnie took that as a bad sign and took off out the back door before Starsky had a chance to follow him.

Starsky wanted to run after him but Hutch's grasp around his bicep, kept him from advancing.

"What the hell did ya stop me for? All I wanted to do was buy the kid some food!" Starsky shrugged away from Hutch and walked out of the garage. Hutch followed him around the back of the building, not surprised when there was no sign of Ronnie.

"He just doesn't trust you yet. We'll find him later." Hutch reached out to grip Starsky's neck, gently turning him back toward the front of the structure.

"I just needed a few more minutes and he woulda." Petulantly, Starsky kicked at the dirt, giving Hutch the impression that he was now dealing with two kids. But the smile left his eyes as he noticed Starsky start to shiver.

Starsky rubbed his temple, closed his eyes and wobbled, leaning in to his friend.

Just then, they saw Huggy's big Cadillac pull into the lot. Hutch guided Starsky toward the car, got him situated in the front seat and spoke to Huggy.

"Give me a minute; I need to just square things with Merle." He hurried into the office and dug his keys out of his pocket.

"Do you know where that kid lives?" Hutch stretched his hands out flat on the desk, bending toward Merle.

"You just scared my replacement mechanic away and ya want I should give you information about him?" Merle hit the desk with his fist then stood up.

"I don't know nothin' bout him except he's good with tools and cars." Merle calmed down; even though he feared that the boy wouldn't come back.

"Look, he's really a good kid. But I don't know where he lives.

Hutch glanced out the window before turning back into the room. He sighed and pushed his hand through is hair. He winced at his own pain and conceded that maybe today had been too much for both of them. But he didn't want Starsky to get hurt. He would do anything he could to help both his friend and the young boy.

"If Ronnie comes back, give me a call, will ya? He probably will, at least to get his jacket."

Hutch's long legs took him back to the Cadillac. He groaned as he got in and shut the door.


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Diaz slid the card across the bottom of the time clock, waiting for the clicking noise before he shoved it into the slot on the other side of the machine. He considered himself tough and independent but he was never late to work. After all, it was this job on the docks that had developed his muscles which gave him the edge he needed to survive in his neighborhood. Not only did the heavy labor build up his body in order to fight for what was important to him, it provided money so that he could help his mother and sister. They both worked in the garment district, putting in long hours at sewing machines that didn't garner as much money as he made. So as the man of the house, he felt it was his duty to provide for his family. His father had killed a man and had been in jail since Diaz was fourteen. In the six years since, Diaz had taken over the responsibility of watching out for his family. He may be tough and street smart outside the home, but he dutifully respected his mother and protected his sister just as fiercely.

Diaz didn't consider the possibility that he'd end up in jail. He'd covered his tracks up till now and felt that he was street smart enough to avoid such a fate. What he lacked in brain power, he made up for it through his ability to physically protect not only himself but his pride. He belonged to The Blades and was well respected within that group.

It had been several days since the fight in the playground. He'd dismissed his concern for Chino, the gang member who'd gotten shot in the leg. He'd proven to be a weak link in the gang.

When the boss on the dock had come around asking where Chino and several other workers were, Diaz had sullenly answered with only the shrug of his shoulders. Those members were now barred from returning to the gang and probably even had left the area rather than face injury or death. Diaz felt it was his responsibility to avenge the outcome of the fight. The Blades didn't want to appear vulnerable.

He lifted the crates, sacks of flour and pallets while he thought about pay back. As he saw it, the cops needed to know that it wasn't smart to mess with The Blades.

Diaz took a break, wiping his sweaty face with a rag. He sat on the sacks of grain and flour he'd already settled on the flatbed trailer.

A sudden idea came to him. He thought back to the day of the fight. Specifically, he recalled how he'd dropped the cop with that piece of wood. But he also thought about the kid who had shown up to help the pig.

Diaz decided to prowl the streets to look for that damn boy. He was confident that the kid would lead him to the cop, one way or the other.

shshshshshshshsh^^^^^^shshshshshshshsh^^^^^^

Starsky huddled in bed, drapes closed against the bright day. He turned off his thinking because it just seemed to add to the pounding in his head.

This was the most severe headache he'd had in a few days. When it first started, he'd tried to ignore it but gradually, it over took him and he was forced to bed. He refused the medication that Hutch offered. His stomach was already burning, clenching until one pain blended into the next. He could barely breathe because of the pain so he curled up and closed his eyes.

Hutch stretched out on the couch in the living room. His arm draped over his head, eyes closed. He could hear Starsky moaning and the restless shifting of sheets. He resisted the urge to go to him, knowing that his friend would try to downplay his symptoms.

Hutch felt responsible that Starsky's headache had gotten so bad. The doctor said that stress could trigger one. The encounter with Ronnie had been enough stress, enough guilt, to reduce Starsky's resistance to an otherwise interesting challenge. He didn't know how he could have prevented any of it, but Hutch knew that the man in the bedroom was in agony because of Ronnie. Just another example of why Starsky shouldn't get any further involved with the boy.

He thought about Kiko and realized that the two boys were totally different. Kiko had a mother and a fairly stable home life before Hutch had gotten involved. It was just that without a dad, the boy was at an age that he was influenced by the wrong friends and his mother couldn't get it across to her son that to be a man didn't mean you had to follow the crowd. Hutch had been able to show by example and patience that he could be a friend without Kiko fearing an adult.

As far as they knew, Ronnie didn't have a home or anyone responsible for him. He hadn't given Merle any indication of an address or guardian. They'd already caught him trying to steal an elderly woman's purse and he had shown up at the gang fight at the playground. Hutch doubted that he was a member of either gang but that didn't solve the mystery as to why he was there and what, if any involvement he had in it.

Hutch pushed himself up off the couch and sat forward, his head in his hands. He had no way of checking on Ronnie since they didn't know his last name. The description that the old lady had given to the police artist didn't provide any clues either.

The encounter with Ronnie had obviously brought out Starsky's constant guilt about his brother Nicky. His friend still harbored long years of regret when it came to his sibling. Nicky had followed the path that their mother had worked so hard to get the young David away from. Starsky always felt that if he'd been at home, neither one of them would have been influenced by the wrong group of people. Now his partner felt that if he could turn Ronnie around, it would somehow make up for the failure at protecting his own family. Hutch had his work cut out for him.

He sighed heavily, thinking of the distress his friend was dealing with. On his way to the bedroom, he picked up his guitar. Sometimes the music would help, kind of like soothing Starsky's mind, helping him relax rather than fighting against the pain.

Music always helped untangle Hutch's frazzled thoughts. He was worried about Starsky. He knew the headaches were receding but when his friend was in any pain, Hutch felt it to the very core of his soul. Hutch needed to be near Starsky. He sat on the chair beside the bed, strumming the guitar lightly, letting the lullaby sooth both of them rather than conversation.

Starsky didn't speak. He moaned slightly, restless in a troubled sleep. But after a few minutes of music, the dark-haired man seemed to relax into a more restful posture. Hutch continued to play. He closed his eyes, letting the sounds wash over him until the room grew silent.

Satisfied that his friend was now peaceful, Hutch got up and went back to the living room. He continued to play as his thoughts moved on to the young boy that Starsky seemed to be so interested in.

Finally putting the guitar away, Hutch went to the kitchen to retrieve his own pain medication. He rotated his shoulder, massaging the tender area. The pill would held him relax enough to sleep fairly comfortably on the couch, without waking up cramped and sore.

After swallowing the pill, he set the glass back in the sink. He leaned his hands against the counter, wondering how he could help the intense need Starsky felt about Ronnie. Hutch didn't want to see him get hurt which could very well happen if the dark-haired man continued to concern himself with Ronnie. The only thing he knew for sure that would help was to stay close to his friend; be there for whatever the outcome.

They would start their search for Ronnie tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

Starsky stepped out of the shower and dried his lower body with the blue towel. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he realized that for the first time in twenty four hours, he was pain free. His vision wasn't blurry, nor was he dizzy; lingering symptoms he often experienced after a migraine that had plagued him since his severe concussion.

He slid his sweat pants up over his hips then moved to the sink to shave and brush his teeth. He opened the door and with the towel over his shoulders, joined Hutch in the living room who was busily putting his blankets and pillow back in the hall closet.

Hutch turned to inspect his friend. He could tell Starsky was feeling better. He'd heard his friend whistling while still in the bathroom and now he looked more relaxed instead of holding his body in a stressed posture. Even his eyes held a sparkle rather than the hazy cast they had to them when he was hurting.

The dark-haired man stood in the middle of the room. His chest and head still wet from the shower, he absently rubbed the material over his hair as he spoke from behind the towel.

"Didn't I hear the phone earlier?" He pushed the towel down over his chest as he sat on the couch. He let the towel drape over his shoulders and reached for the day old paper.

"Yeah. It was Merle. My car isn't ready yet but Ronnie showed up and Merle's got him working on it." Hutch shoved Starsky's feet off the coffee table before sitting down next to him.

Starsky let the paper slide to his lap as he reacted to Hutch's news.

"I wanna go talk to him." The blond reached out to Starsky, patting his knee in understanding. The look that passed between them reassured both of them. It was understood that Starsky wanted to help the boy and that Hutch would support him.

"I know. So it looks like I'll drive your car today." Hutch put up his hand to stop the protest his friend was about to utter.

"I've got physical therapy so why don't I drop you off at Merle's and I'll pick you up on my way back?" As his friend stood up, Hutch readied himself for the barrage of complaints that he would hear about this plan.

Instead of disagreeing, Starsky gave his consent. "Yeah, that'd be great. I can talk to Ronnie while he's workin'. Maybe that way he wouldn't feel like I was interrogating him. I just don't want to scare him off again."

"Why do you feel so strongly about this kid?" Hutch couldn't resist asking because he didn't trust the youth. Ronnie had run away rather than engage in conversation when they saw him the first time at Merle's. Not to mention standing over Starsky with a bloody board in his hands at the end of the gang fight

Hutch watched a variety of emotions cross Starsky's face. At first, there was anger. The blond could only guess that it was because he was questioning the other man's motives. Often impatient when it came to explaining things, Starsky would rather get things done using his feet and muscle rather than analyze and question. He bit his lip and the dark eye brows tented in thought.

Letting out a long breath, Starsky began to try and explain to his friend.

"I don't know why Ronnie got to me. For all we know, he's a little thief and a trouble maker, but in a lotta ways he reminds me of Nicky. Everyone deserves a second chance Hutch. Maybe Nicky shoulda been sent to Uncle Al and Rosie's instead of me. But this kid just needs somebody to look out for him."

"You know if you get involved with him, it'll mean sending him to a foster home or a juvenile detention center. What then? What if all you accomplish is pushing him further away and he resents you rather than trusts you?" Hutch spoke quietly, watching his friend closely.

"Hutch I don't know. If I can spend some time with him and get him to see the benefit of foster home and promise I'll be here for him…" Starsky broke off his thoughts, realizing that it didn't sound very promising.

"Maybe you should just forget him. Let the courts handle it and don't get anymore involved." Hutch didn't like the sound of his own voice as he spoke what was really in his heart. He had a bad feeling about all of this but couldn't keep silent for the sake of his friend. He saw the dark look return to Starsky's face and the lips thin out in a hard line.

"Tell me this, smart guy, what woulda happened if you'da done the same thing with Kiko. Starsky stood up, began to pace, the agitation keeping his feet moving.

"Huh, got no answer other than the truth do ya? If nobody cared, he would have just fallen through the cracks and become another juvenile delinquent." Starsky returned to stand in front of Hutch, hands on his hips. The two men stood toe to toe. Hutch purposely kept his voice level as he responded.

"Kiko had a mom… was already in school. He just needed…" Starsky cut him off, his frustration getting in his way of listening.

"Yeah and Ronnie needs parents and school, but shit, he needs somebody that believes in him. I just want him to know he can trust me. I'll be here no matter what." He began to pace again, pulling his fingers through his still damp hair.

"Starsky, be honest here. He's been involved in purse snatching and he was at the playground during the gang fight. He's already in trouble." Hutch tried to stop the other man's pacing but Starsky pushed away the hand that reached out. He continued to circle the living room.

He stopped suddenly, his chest heaving with anger. "You saying it's too late? What's wrong with you? What about all those homeless bums that we see everyday? We give 'em money so they can eat." Starsky looked intently at Hutch, making sure he had the blonde's full attention before he said anything more. "We've even helped out the hookers and druggies on occasion." He dropped his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt he knew that last sentence would cause his friend to experience.

Hutch winced just like Starsky knew he would. This wasn't getting them anywhere though.

Silence loomed for a few minutes until Starsky finally sat down. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension tighten the muscles there.

Hutch joined Starsky on the couch. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He looked over at Starsky, who peered back at him. Measuring each other up and silently deciding that they'd agree to disagree.

"I just don't want to see you hurt. Just be careful." Hutch spoke in a whisper which reached Starsky loud and clear. They both smiled and stood up.

"C'mon mushbrain, I gotta get to therapy."

"How much longer before you're done with it?" Starsky asked. Even though they felt differently about Ronnie, neither one would let it get in the way of their friendship. They might not agree on every aspect of the other's life, but they would support each other.

Hutch rotated his shoulder to prove how much mobility he had and to show that he didn't have the intense or constant pain anymore.

"Not much longer. The therapist is pleased and I see the doctor on Friday. So get ready to hit the streets again!" Closing the door behind them, they walked toward the Tornio.

Starsky reached the driver's side of the Torino first but Hutch held out his hand for the keys. The other man sighed as he jangled the keys in front of the blonde's face.

"Ok, this time you drive but as you said, it won't be long before we're cruisin' the streets again, just me and thee!" Starsky chuckled as he surrendered the driving to his friend and hustled over to the passenger side of the red car.


	17. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Both men were quiet on the way to Merle's. Hutch was thinking about his therapy and hoping that it would soon be over. Forced inactivity was always hard. His arm and shoulder felt better and he was convinced that he could exercise on his own just as well as the professional was doing.

So he was going to try and talk the therapist into releasing him soon.

Instead of complaining about Hutch's driving, Starsky seemed deep in thought. The blond knew it had to be about Ronnie.

As a matter of fact, that's exactly what Starsky was involved in. He wanted to get the boy to trust him, but each would have to give a little. He knew that Ronnie would have to get into Child Welfare Services and into a foster home. Juvenile Detention Center was another possibility. True, the young boy had participated in some petty thefts, but with Starsky standing up as a guardian of sorts, hopefully that would count for something. As for Ronnie's part, he would have to work at being part of a family, trusting others and going to school. These were all things that would be difficult and Starsky understood how hard from his own experiences as a young adult.

'Ouch, what did ya do that for?" Starsky rubbed his arm, glaring at Hutch until he realized that they had stopped in the parking lot at Merle's.

"You didn't respond when the car stopped and you didn't even look at me when I spoke to you, so how else should I get your attention?" Hutch smiled at his friend. Starsky laughed, pushing open the car door. He got out but leaned down to speak through the open window.

"Don't forget to pick me up and don't abuse my car like ya did on the ride over!"

They both looked toward the garage and watched Merle wipe his hands on a rag. He crossed his arms and appeared to scowl as he looked at Hutch's car.

"Maybe my car'll be done and you can drive this tomato home yourself." Hutch chose to ignore Starsky's snort of disgust as he put the car in reverse.

Starsky walked into the garage as Merle motioned him over. Ronnie leaned into the open hood of the LTD, making adjustments as the engine idled.

"Starkinson, good to see you today. I'll be leaving now since this machine seems to have aggravated my allergies." To make his point, Merle sneezed, coughed and scratched his neck, all in a way that only the mechanic could make you believe that you could actually be allergic to a broken down, dented car.

He wandered away, muttering under his breath as he strode to an extremely gaudy automobile that was more his style.

Starsky smothered his laughter and turned instead to Ronnie who still fiddled with a few settings on Hutch's car and didn't make any comment.

He watched for a few minutes, then handed Ronnie a tool. The boy looked up for an instant, acknowledged the help and went back to work.

"Could be a couple sticky valves.", the boy informed Starsky. Ronnie stood up, stretched his back and then went to shut off the LTD. The sudden quiet stood between them, neither one knowing what to do next.

Starsky decided a direct approach would be best. He was anxious to get his thoughts out in the open as quickly as possible.

"Will you let me help you get back to your family?" asked the detective, as Ronnie walked over to a work bench scattered with tools. The teen-ager's hands were greasy but he reached up and pushed his bangs away from his face, leaving a black streak in the middle of his forehead.

He picked up a bottle of pop sitting on the work bench and took a drink. The detective watched him as he leaned against the LTD. Again, Ronnie moved his bangs away from his face, an act of nerves rather than any real necessity. The quick repetition convinced the older man that the boy was uncomfortable and didn't trust easily.

"Don't have a family." Ronnie made the simple statement, causing the dark-haired man to shake his head.

"Everyone's got at least a mom or dad…" Ronnie cut Starsky off, this time anger making his voice crack.

"You wanna know? Mom walked out on us. My sister left, got pregnant and married some jerk. Then my brother went to Viet Nam and got killed." He fished the lighter out of his pocket and held it up to show his companion. "This is all I got left of him." Ronnie picked up a hammer from the tool bench but threw it back down in anger. The hammer scattered loose bolts and smaller screwdrivers, some landing on the floor.

Starsky moved closer and reached out, but Ronnie shrugged off the gesture.

"Your dad must be worried about you then." Ronnie turned toward the detective and pushed at his hair again.

"My dad decided drinking was more important. One night after he passed out, I took some money, his watch, packed up my things and left."

"Why not give him a call?" Starsky's eyes turned dark with worry, imagining this young boy on his own.

"I tried a couple months ago, but the phone was disconnected." Ronnie sniffed and rubbed his hand across his nose.

Watching intently, there was no mistaking the tears in the boy's eyes. When he noticed Starsky staring, he quickly wiped them away and cleared his throat.

Starsky remembered his own fear and loneliness when he was young and wanted somehow to reach out with understanding.

'I know how it is to be on your own. I was thirteen when my dad died. My mom sent me out here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. Maybe you've got relatives?"

"I don't need anybody. I'm workin' here and Merle lets me sleep on the cot in the office sometimes. Just leave me alone!" Ronnie shoved past Starsky and headed outside.

Starsky dry washed his face, realizing that he was up against an independent, stubborn young man.

"But the law's gonna catch up with you eventually. You don't wanna go to jail so why don't you let me help you?" He shouted in frustration as he followed the boy, half expecting him to keep on going. But he found Ronnie on the bench in front of the building.

Ronnie fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. Starsky noticed that it was already half finished. He watched as Ronnie pulled out the lighter. He held it in his hand for a minute before lighting the blunt cigarette.

Taking a long drag, the young man seemed to enjoy it and took his time answering his friend. He flicked the ash onto the ground.

"Why do ya want to put me away? I thought we were friends." Ronnie's face reflected how frustrated and scared he was. Starsky sat beside him, deciding to defuse the tenseness between them.

"I'm not doing anything till you finish Hutch's car." Starsky bent forward to check on the LTD. "Is there any hope for it?" He smiled and laughed slightly, still peering at the open hood of the LTD.

Another puff on the cigarette before Ronnie offered some insight to his family.

"My dad had a car just like that. I watched my brother try to keep that thing goin' until he finally let me help. I guess he was tired of me askin' if I could help him with his pride and joy. Dylan was awfully proud of his Mustang." He finished the cigarette, dropped the butt and ground it into the dirt with his foot and continued about Hutch's car.

'The LTD's almost done. Merle don't like workin on it but he trusts me with it. Says it gives him a headache." He laughed slightly. For the first time, Starsky saw the child that lurked just under the surface. Just as quickly though another memory made the young man's eyes darken.

"I came home from school one day and Dylan's Mustang was gone. My old man sold it." Ronnie got up and went back to work on the LTD.

The time flew by until they heard the distinctive rumble of the Torino's engine. Starsky straightened up and wiped his hands on a rag.

One more time, the dark haired man offered help. He took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Ronnie.

"If you need me… anytime.." Starsky patted Ronnie on the shoulder and leveled his gaze directly at the boy. They both stared without speaking until Ronnie slipped the card into the pocket of his jeans.


	18. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17.**

Several weeks after the gang fight, Diaz Ramada had not forgotten his vow to seek revenge against the two cops who he felt had interfered. Diaz still worked the docks and kept his family safe but in his free time, he planned for the day he would fight back. Diaz struck out on his own, deciding he needed a decoy of sorts. He focused on the kid he'd seen who wasn't a member of either gang. He stalked the playground for a few days but when he didn't see the boy return, he just widened his search.

Diaz stood on the corner, smoking his cigarette and checking out the hookers who looked him up and down as they walked by. His shirt opened to the waist, revealed curly dark chest hair. Diaz smoothed out his mustache. His dark hair glistened and he felt on top of the world. He'd showered when he got home from the dock. He worked hard and played hard as well.

One hooker stopped to admire but Diaz waved her on. He had money in his pocket but first he had to introduce himself to this kid, then it'd be time for his own pleasure.

He slouched against a wall, waiting until he finally saw the boy he was looking for. The boy wore an over sized military jacket and dirty jeans. The hems were rolled up to accommodate his short legs. Long sandy hair hung to his shoulders.

Waiting until the boy had walked past, Diaz kept pace until the teen came to an alley, it was then that Diaz grabbed Ronnie from behind and dragged him into the alley until they'd reached a secluded area. All the while, the frightened young boy tried to wiggle out of the tight grasp at his neck. He kicked at the person behind him but succeeded only to connect with empty boxes and he heard papers scattering across the pavement.

Abruptly, they stopped and Ronnie found himself shoved up against a brick wall. A large hand clamped across his mouth and he was held tight against the wall by the weight of the older boy's body.

"So little man, what's your name?" Diaz waited, enjoying the fear he saw in the green eyes.

"I'll let go but don't fight me or run. 'Cause when I catch ya, I'll knife ya instead of just talking. That's all I wanna do for now. Just tell me your name." The last request whispered close to Ronnie's ear. The young boy flinched. He tried to move his head away but he was held fast against the wall.

Cautiously, Diaz took his hand away and Ronnie let out a long breath. He didn't move but stood, staring at the man in front of him.

Quietly, Diaz asked again for the boy's name.

In a meek voice, Ronnie answered but didn't offer any other information.

"Ok Ronnie. Tell me, why were you at the fight a few weeks ago?"

The small boy attempted to move but the older boy reached out with a quick hand and held the teen still. Diaz had to know if this kid was tight with the cops.

Ronnie swallowed the lump in his throat but forced himself to be calm.

"Just wanted to play on the swings." He wiggled against the abrasive hold but he was held too tightly.

"You know those cops? You friends?" Diaz let go slightly and when Ronnie made no move to break free, he let go completely but held him fast with a hard, sinister look.

"Don't know 'em except their names… Starsky and Hutch." Briefly worried that he had just gotten the detectives in trouble, he figured they could take care of themselves.

Diaz reached out to grab Ronnie's arm. The boy stiffened but didn't try to move. The older teen began searching through the jacket and when he pulled out the lighter, Ronnie shoved out of the loosened grasp.

"Give it back." Ronnie growled and tried to take a swing at the bigger boy without success. Diaz just slipped out of his way and laughed at the childish attempt.

"Easy there. So this is somethin' special?" He stepped back, with one arm stretched forward, his palm against the boy's chest. With the other he flicked the lighter, sending the flame up, then letting it die down. He watched Ronnie watching the lighter, then slid it into his own shirt pocket.

"You'll get it back after you do something for me." Diaz played with one end of his mustache as he thought. He'd heard of the two cops before but the gang fight was the first encounter with them. Those two had a reputation for being street smart and a good team. But that didn't scare him. It just made him more determined to seek revenge.

Ronnie tried to move away but quick as a snake, Diaz grabbed him around the neck and held tight. He didn't seem concerned that his captive was having trouble breathing.

Just as quickly, Diaz let go, causing the limp young man to slump to the ground. The older boy grabbed Ronnie's shirt collar and pulled the gasping boy to his feet.

"I want both of those cops. I don't care which one. I heard they're like this with each other." Diaz crossed two fingers together. "If I get one of 'em, then I'm guessing the other will come looking to save his partner."

Pleased with himself, Diaz smiled, revealing a gold front tooth.

Ronnie hitched a breath and licked his lips in an attempt to moisten his mouth which had gone dry with fear.

"What… how." The young boy swallowed and tried again to make sense of what was going on. "How'm I supposed to do that?" He watched the darker man. From somewhere, Ronnie pulled up his nerve and stared straight at Diaz.

The darkly tanned older boy let out a laugh and taunted Ronnie as he lit his own cigarette from the lighter. Then he slid it into the pocket of his shirt and patted it with his hand. He took a drag from the cigarette and passed it to the younger boy who turned his face away.

"You'll figure something out. I'm sure one of 'em would do anything to save your sorry little ass."

The cigarette hung from his lips as Diaz reached to his belt and pulled out a knife. He slid his finger up the blade, smiling, watching the expression across the younger boy's face.

Ronnie couldn't take his eyes off the big knife with the deep teeth. Diaz' message was clear.

"I know where ya live and I know you work in that car dump. So remember, I'll be watchin. And…" He flipped the weapon in the air and it stuck blade down, in the dirt between Ronnie's legs. Slowly Diaz reached down for it and kissed the sharp edge.

Diaz made a hissing sound as he moved closer, backing Ronnie up against the wall again. The teen closed his eyes, not sure what to expect but the homeless boy didn't want to see what was coming.

Quickly and without warning, Diaz swiped the blade lightly down Ronnie's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. It surprised the young man so much that he couldn't control the scream that escaped his mouth. It wasn't so much from pain as it was the stark meaning of the action.

Diaz smiled again and chuckled at the fear in the boy's eyes. He loved the reaction his knife always caused. This was the only friend he needed.

Without another word, Diaz stalked out of the alley, in search of leisure time activity. He grabbed his crotch, eager to ease the tightness against his jeans as he thought of one of those pretty street girls and what she could do for him. Between that and what had just been accomplished in the alley, this was turning out to be a really fantastic day.

Ronnie stayed up against the wall as he watched Diaz leave. He slid down into the dirt, curled into his body on the ground. He sniffed and rubbed the tears away from his face.

After a few minutes, he looked around to make sure Diaz hadn't come back. Instead of going back to his garage, he went to the mission for dinner. Feeling pretty confident that Diaz wouldn't dare enter the mission he slowly got up and headed that way. He kept glancing around and walking faster until safely reaching the shelter. Quietly he walked inside, smelling the food which had the desired effect. He felt calmer.

He tried to eat but was so nervous that the food had no taste. He could only think about one thing, getting his lighter back. That meant more than some cop's life at the moment, or even his own.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Ronnie was smart enough to realize that nothing good was going to come of this association with Diaz. He wasn't sure he believed that Diaz knew where he lived but he couldn't take that chance.

He needed help to get away and hoped Starsky would somehow know what to do. So he worked up his nerve and dug out the card with the cop's home and work numbers that he had been given. He went to the corner phone booth and placed the call to the cop's home.

On the third ring, Ronnie was about to hang up when the cop answered.

"_Starsky here.."_

The young boy didn't respond right away and even wanted to hang up but….

"_lo? Who's this?"_ Starsky sounded annoyed when empty seconds went by without anyone speaking.

"It's Ronnie. You said I could call you anytime." The boy tried to control the fear in his voice.

"_Hey, Ronnie! What's up?" _The detective sounded glad to hear from him so the teen continued before he lost his nerve.

"Can I meet you somewhere? There's somethin' I need to talk to ya about. But promise…" Ronnie almost hung up again but put his trust in the phone call.

"…_Nobody from Child Welfare Services, right?"_ Starsky stood in his living room and paced as far as the phone cord would let him. Perhaps the boy was ready to believe in him.

Ronnie shifted from foot to foot and glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see Diaz lurking about.

He swallowed before answering. "Yeah." He flipped the hair back off his face. He was afraid of Diaz but didn't want to get anybody hurt, especially Starsky. Ronnie just wanted to set this up and be done with it.

Starsky eagerly suggested the time, not wanting to give Ronnie the chance to back out.

" _Meet me at Parker Center tomorrow, about two, okay? Gotta be somewhere in the morning but go right to my desk. It's the one with the piggy bank."_

"OK. See ya tomorrow." Ronnie plopped the receiver back in the cradle and rested his forehead against the hand set. He backed away and gently touched the fresh cut to his cheek. It had stopped bleeding but it stung. He didn't want to know what Diaz had planned but he refused to believe that anyone would be hurt further. He'd do what the older boy asked, get his lighter back and get the hell out of Bay City. In order to do that he needed more money. He hadn't worked for Merle in over a week and doubted the old man would take him back even if he showed up. Instead, he'd rely on his skill at stealing wallets and was sure he could filch several hundred bucks and perhaps get out of the city before Diaz found him again.

As Starsky hung up the phone, he turned in time to see Hutch scowling at him. He wasn't in the mood for another argument. There was too much to look forward to.

"So that was Ronnie?" Hutch set the guitar on the floor and leaned back against the chair. He waited for his friend to answer who continued to pace, this time the length of the living room.

"Ronnie wants to talk, so after I see the doctor, I'll meet him at the precinct."

Starsky looked forward to the appointment because he felt certain that he'd be released to go back to work. He hadn't had a headache in days and he felt strong and rested again.

Just yesterday, Hutch had been cut loose from physical therapy and would turn in his own return to work slip. Belatedly, he remembered that they'd made plans to meet up at the squad room, hand Dobey their releases and celebrate at Huggy's.

Rubbing the crease between his eyes, Hutch resisted saying what he thought. It wasn't the fact that their plans had been changed but the reason for the change. He couldn't put his finger on his misgivings about Ronnie. He didn't know anything about the boy except negative things. He couldn't get the image of Starsky lying on the ground bleeding from a head wound and Ronnie standing over him with the bloody board. The kid even ran away rather than defend his reason for being there.

Sensing Hutch's mood, Starsky wanted to reassure his friend that it was just one small step toward a friendship. The dark-haired man wanted to reach out to the young boy, make sure he had someone in his life that he could count on.

"All we're doing is talking. I just want to help him." He crossed to the center of the living room and plopped down on the couch. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he faced his friend.

"Besides, he fixed your car didn't he?" Starsky watched as Hutch relaxed and truly smiled this time. His blue eyes reflected amusement.

"I'll give him that Starsk… no added fuzzy dice or leopard striped seat covers. That car runs like a dream!" The mood of both men brightened as they continued to discuss the young man's success with the LTD.

Starsky wanted to keep Hutch's mood light and away from the negative thoughts about Ronnie. Teasing his friend about the LTD was always bound to make their talk friendly again.

"Yeah, that heap hasn't stalled out or over heated." Starsky followed Hutch into the kitchen, eager to continue the light hearted exchange but also it was his friend's turn to cook and he was hungry.

The blond stalked into the kitchen, anxious to drop the subject. He didn't understand Starsky's willingness to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. For Hutch it all added up to a life gone wrong. Petty theft, life on the streets with no personal direction was all he could see.

"So it's settled." Starsky sat on the counter waiting for his friend to start dinner.

"What's settled?" Hutch scratched his head as he brought his attention back to the present.

"We'll meet at the precinct tomorrow, hand Dobey our back to work orders then talk with Ronnie."

Hutch sighed, as he smiled slightly. "You'll talk to Ronnie and I'll meet you at Huggy's. Remember, I got a car that runs now." He bent down to retrieve a few potatoes for dinner.

A few more well placed digs from Starsky, followed by defensive praise of his car and Hutch let himself relax as he began to prepare their meal.

He took out steaks from the refrigerator along with the ingredients for a salad. When Starsky went to work on cutting up the veggies, Hutch knew that they were back in sync again. He pushed down his misgivings and prepared to enjoy the rest of their evening.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Starsky was not having a good day. He'd gotten to his doctors appointment on time only to find out that the physician had an emergency at the hospital and as a result, Starsky wasn't seen until two hours after his original time. He hated waiting and by the time he got to the precinct, he was feeling restless.

It did lift his spirits considerably when he was able to park in his favorite spot in front of Parker Center. With the return to work slip in his shirt pocket, he raced up the steps and through the double doors, expecting the squad room to be busy and noisy. Instead, there were only a few men at their desks. Mark was typing out a report, listening to a woman give her story about a crime. He raised his hand in greeting then returned his attention to typing.

Duke sat with his head buried in a file, other reports scattered over his desk. A mug of coffee sat in the center, the contents spilling out and staining a folder. He never looked up or acknowledged he'd seen or heard anyone entering.

Starsky stood just inside the doors, studying the office and wondering where everyone was. He looked at his watch, annoyed that it was so late in the afternoon. He'd arranged to meet Ronnie at two but the boy was no where in sight.

"Hey Duke, how the hell are you?" Starsky grabbed the chair opposite the other man and straddled it. The man looked up, his hair disheveled and a five o'clock shadow spreading over his face.

"Starsky! Glad to see you." Duke spoke around the pencil in his mouth and stuck his hand out to shake the other man's. The dark-haired man returned the greeting and asked about the lack of people in the room.

"Where is everybody?" Starsky looked around again, eyeing Captain Dobey's closed office door.

"Bay City isn't short on crimes. Glad you and your partner are better, Can't wait for you to get back on shift." The disheveled detective picked up his mug and went to refill his coffee. He peered into the empty glass carafe, scowling at the bottom of the pot, scorched black from neglect.

Duke sat down and moved a few papers around until he found the one he had been looking for.

"Is Captain Dobey around?" Starsky glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Dobey's office, wondering why the man hadn't come bustling out yet to greet him.

Duke didn't look up, intent on organizing the file folder in front of him, providing an answer tinged with annoyance.

"Was earlier. In a meeting now."

He studied his watch again. There was still no sign of Ronnie.

"Anybody looking for me? Did you see a kid at my desk?"

Duke stuck the pencil behind his ear and set the folder aside. He dry washed his face and pushed back his chair before answering.

"Only one lookin' for ya was Dobey. He wants to see you and your partner." Duke gathered the loose papers, stuffed them in a folder and stood up. "I gotta go, but it's great having you back." He headed for the door, his shirt hanging over his pants and his tie askew.

Starsky sighed, wondering about Ronnie. He wanted to believe that the boy would still show up but it wasn't looking that way.

He had just gotten to his desk when the doors to the squad room opened and Hutch walked through, looking troubled as he came directly to their shared desk space. He perched on the side of the table as he reached out to his friend.

"What took you so long? Didn't you get cleared?" The blonde's forehead wrinkled with concern as he watched Starsky's face for an answer.

The dark-haired man offered up a crooked smile and as he leaned closer to his partner, he laughed as he waved the slip of paper in front of him.

"The doc was delayed so I wasn't seen when I should've been but here it is, my release!" Hutch reached for the paper, wanting to see for himself the official words giving freedom to his friend.

Hutch patted him on the back. "Dobey called and said he wanted to talk to us both. When you weren't here, I went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat."

Starsky looked anxiously toward the hallway, still expecting to see Ronnie. He changed position, sitting on the back of the chair, his feet resting on the worn, cushioned seat. "Did you see Ronnie at all? He should've been here by now."

"Nope, never ran into him. I was hoping to thank him for the great job he did on my car. It's running better than it has in a long time." Hutch reached for one of the folders and began to read the top sheet. Just as both men began to settle into the work in front of them, Captain Dobey barreled through the doors, scowling at the room in general but his piercing eyes landing on the recovered detectives specifically.

"Starsky! Hutchinson! In my office… now!"

"Same old grumbling ogre.", Starsky whispered to Hutch as they followed the captain into his office.

Starsky took the chair closest to the desk and Hutch perched on the arm, leaning in toward his partner. It was an old habit, not at all out of the ordinary as far as Harold Dobey was concerned. He was happy to have them well again, but he'd be damned if he'd show it. Instead, he glared at them both and cleared his throat.

The detectives handed across their clearance papers to their captain. He studied them briefly then shoved them into a folder which sat in front of him.

"You've got your assignments on your desk out there so I expect you to be in on time tomorrow and get busy. No fooling around." He pointed a finger at the two men across from him, frowning at Starsky's salute.

Dobey chose to continue explaining about their assignment, rather than comment on Starsky's attitude.

"We know a few of those involved in that altercation at the playground. We questioned Freddy who seemed most interested in giving us details. He's a member of The Blades but after what he told us, won't be staying in Bay City long. He gave up several of The Blade members. We've made some arrests but it seems that a creep by the name of…" Dobey pulled a sheet of paper out of the mess on his desk, looking for one particular name. …"Diaz Ramada… a slippery weasel. He's got a long rap sheet. He's a dangerous fellow whom we'd like to apprehend."

Hutch rubbed his shoulder, thinking of the fight and how he had been injured. Again, his thoughts went to his partner, lying motionless on the ground and unresponsive.

The partners met eyes and Starsky winked, reassuring his friend that he was alright.

Dobey ended the briefing but had another subject matter to discuss.

"We're still getting reports on somebody stealing purses and wallets. Same area, near the senior center and by all accounts, it's the same kid. I think you know about him?" Dobey held Starsky with a dark glance; a warning that he better be honest.

"Well, ya see… ummm it's like this. He's a good kid. He's been working at Merle's and doing really good. He fixed Hutch's car. Tell him Hutch." Starsky poked his friend in the shoulder to encourage him to help out.

"Yeah, he got my car up and running." Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew where this was going and didn't want to be part of Starsky's story nor did he want to be reeled in by his superior. Either way, he was stuck in the middle.

"That's not what I'm after and you know it." Dobey stood up and came to stand in front of the two men. He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms.

"Do I have to say it? No private parties! This kid belongs in Children and Youth Services or in Juvie. Do I have to put a warrant out on him to have that accomplished?"

"Cap, just give me some time. I don't want him to feel pressured. If he'll trust me to take him to that office and smooth the way for him…" Starsky pleaded to no avail. The captain composed himself, refraining from the tirade that welled up inside him. He spoke quietly, thinking that would get his point across rather than raising his voice.

"If you know where he is, you better bring him in, understand? He'll get the help he needs and you can still be part of his life once he's been processed." Dobey went back to sit at his desk. Once seated, he rubbed his face in frustration. He understood Starsky's motive but the rules had to be followed.

Hutch sat quietly, waiting for the volcano of words that Starsky would spew once they were out of earshot of their captain.

"I shouldn't have to remind either of you that we are not a social service agency. What happens to that boy is not our concern."

Dobey lowered his eyes to his desk and when he looked up again, there was no question that the subject was closed and that they were dismissed.

He saw Starsky wavering. The detective had more to say but his partner held him back. That light touch on his arm did the trick but didn't remove the dark look in his eyes. The captain had stated his position. He guessed that Hutchinson would be in for an ear full.

Getting back to his own work, Dobey put the situation aside in order to finish up and head home. Beef stew for dinner. He had promised Edith he'd be home and he wasn't about to miss out on a family meal.


	21. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

Starsky turned around to confront his superior but Hutch blocked his path. He put his palm up against his friend to calm him.

Hutch closed the door, guided his partner to their desk and forced him into his chair. Barely controlled anger bubbled up, the blue eyes flashing with questions.

"What the hell is that all about?" Starsky's eyes grew dark, his nose flaring in frustration.

He continued glaring at his partner, wanting answers but aware that he probably wouldn't like the outcome. So his anger centered on the person in front of him. Hutch didn't back away but stood, ready for the flood of emotions.

"How did Dobey know anything about Ronnie?" A challenge was evident in the words and Hutch hoped he could make Starsky understand. Deciding that honesty would be essential, he steeled himself for the hurt he was about to cause his friend.

"I wanted to know more about this kid. I talked with Dobey about Ronnie's options. Then I checked on reports about the recurring street muggings. Starsky, he's got a reputation. It's just a matter of time before he's thrown into Juvie."

"So, you don't trust me? You don't trust my instincts?" Starsky stood up, facing Hutch. They were in each other's space, which was usually comforting but this time, the tension between them crackled.

Keeping his voice level, his eyes fixed on the dark-haired man, Hutch tried to reason with him. He tried to ignore the question which had been thrown at him.

'You're gonna get hurt. Starsky, this is serious. Ronnie's involved in gangs, he steals, who knows what else. He hasn't worked at Merle's in days."

"He ain't involved with gangs. He's just a kid without anybody to care about him."

Hutch pushed his hand through his hair. "Did you ask him?" Starsky looked away but the blond moved back into his line of vision. "Did you?" He asked again and when he saw the shadow of doubt cross the blue eyes, Hutch sighed.

He hated inciting Starsky's anger, but he had to make the man understand that there was no point in getting further involved with this young boy. They had already been given orders to drop any involvement with Ronnie but Hutch knew that didn't always sway them to obey.

Starsky's voice was controlled, too controlled Hutch thought.

"I didn't have to ask him. He's not the type."

"What is it with you? Why are you so willing to believe him?" Hutch tried to understand but it was their nature to question everything but this time Starsky just wanted to accept the situation at face value. He felt that the young teen was taking advantage of Starsky.

Starsky began to pace. He stopped by the water cooler and slowly pulled out a cup and filled it with water. He drained it in one gulp, filled it up again and walked to the desk.

"He tried to help me at the fight. Now I want to help him." Starsky looked toward the clock on the wall, then down at his own watch. "I understand him like no one else can."

Out of habit, Hutch reached for the water sitting on the desk. But Starsky claimed it and gulped it down, defying his partner to question the action.

Once again, Hutch thought stating the obvious would be best. "But he ran instead of staying to explain about who had attacked you."

"He ran because you scared the crap outta him." He sat back down, this time straddling the chair. Hutch took this as a good sign. He wasn't backing down from the conversation but it seemed that he was putting an obstacle between them. Sometimes body language was all they had when it came to talking to people.

"C'mon buddy. Just leave this to people who know what's best for him. Sometimes it's better not to get so twisted up in somebody's life, especially if they aren't worth it."

He could see how his words had hurt Starsky. So the blond tried to reach out to his friend but at that point, the look Starsky threw at him made Hutch retreat, almost as if he'd touched something that had burned him.

One last try was all he could do. "Ronnie didn't show up today, did he? Probably didn't want to come anywhere near a police station."

Starsky rested his head on top of his arms which were crossed over the back of the chair. He felt defeated but didn't want to admit this to his partner. He cared more then even he understood about the young boy. He felt that he'd been given an opportunity to reverse the guilt that still ate at him when it came to his own brother. He wasn't there for Nicky who ended up on the wrong side of the law. He was in and out of jail and their mother had thrown him out the last time he'd come back to her front door. All because Starsky went to California when he was thirteen. Starsky had advantages that Nicky did not have. Now was the time to make sure another youngster didn't suffer the difficulties life had thrown at him. Ronnie had no control over his family life, just like Starsky had no power to stop what had happened to him or his brother. He was fortunate to have known John Blaine to guide him and teach him about being a man. Nicky had no one to look out for him. He and Ronnie had been thrown together and now it was up to him to guide the boy and make sure his life got back on track before it was too late. Starsky was positive he was the only one who could reach the teen.

"Somethin' musta happened. I should go find him." Starsky got up, started toward the exit. He turned around to look one more time at his partner. He didn't notice the other men in the room who were going about their business but discretely still fascinated by what was going on between the two detectives. I

n a voice tinged with sarcasm and disappointment, he made one last comment.

"Thanks for your support… buddy."

He pushed open the double doors, but even as he walked down the hall, Hutch's words followed him and hit home.

"He still doesn't trust anyone. Apparently not even you!" He watched as his friend retreated into the elevator.

Hutch paced the room, half expecting Starsky to return. One of the other detectives stole a glance at the blond who smiled weakly.

He massaged the bridge of his nose and walked toward the exit.

They were a good team on the streets, knew what the other was capable of but sometimes, he didn't understand Starsky at all.

"Guess I should go after him," He said out loud, not expecting a response from anyone. It was those words that would haunt him a few days later, making him wish he had done exactly that.


	22. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

Hutch got no further down the hall than the vending machine. Poised there, money in hand, Dobey stood trying to decide which candy bar to purchase. The black man grumped when he saw his detective and shoved the money back into his pocket.

"Where's Starsky? There's a case that just came across my desk." He waved the folder in front of Hutch, waiting for the man to take possession of it.

Wordlessly, the blond opened it to the top report and began scanning it as the two men walked back toward the squad room.

"Cap, Starsky went home for the day. We'll be ready to start tomorrow. But I'll go down and interrogate this guy myself." Sitting down on the chair he grabbed a pencil, underlining a word or two that caught his attention.

Standing next to the desk, Dobey hesitated, wanting to ask about Starsky but realized that Hutch was already absorbed with the description of the murder and the suspect he was to interview. The Captain wiped his handkerchief across his face as he went back to his office.

Hutch looked up at the clock, realized he'd been reading through the file for an hour. Knowing that the intended celebration at Huggy's was a thing of the past, he reached toward the phone to dial Starsky's number. No answer after eight rings. That meant his friend was brooding at home and chose not to answer, or he was out looking for Ronnie. Either way, the blond didn't worry because he knew that Starsky would wander in to the squad room tomorrow at the normal time, reach for coffee and ask about their current case; the confrontation from the day before, forgotten.

Hutch was right about Starsky brooding. The dark-haired man had spent time driving around, looking for Ronnie without success. By the time he got home, he was wondering how he could have been so wrong about the young boy. He really had wanted to help him but he had to admit that his friend was right, he'd been conned.

He was still lounging on the couch, his arm over his eyes when the phone rang. He didn't move and counted eight rings before it finally stopped. He had been angry but now he realized it was because Hutch had been right. He sat up, sighed and reached for his beer. One long swallow later, he set the empty bottle on the coffee table and got up to pace around the apartment. He circled to the kitchen for another beer then settled down to watch an old movie on T.V. He propped his feet on the furniture in front of him as the movie started. Taking small sips of the amber brew, he quickly became engrossed in the old monster movie.

His eyes blinked open and he didn't immediately understand that he'd been asleep. He yawned and looked at the snowy T.V. screen. Finally the ringing made sense to his sluggish awareness. Sitting up, he reached for the phone.

"Yeah?" The word came out heavy with sleep. He cleared his throat and repeated the greeting, this time with a little more energy.

"Hello?" Reaching over to turn off the T.V. he also checked his watch. The early hour was proof he'd fallen asleep in the middle of the movie. Now as he glanced out the window, the first light of morning colored the horizon a dusky pink.

"Umm … it's me, Ronnie."

Yesterday's event came back to Starsky, reminding him of the argument with his partner, the fact that he'd ignored Hutch's phone call and most of all, he wondered what was up with the young boy.

"Sorry about not meeting you. I… couldn't."

"It's okay. I guess I shoulda known you wouldn't want to meet at a police station. I tried looking for you, but I don't know where you live." That sounded awkward to Starsky. He had never asked the boy where he stayed when he wasn't at Merle's. But it couldn't be much of a place to _live…._ just a place to hang out more likely.

"Starsky, I'm…" Ronnie stopped. He hated to admit that he was afraid. He hated the fact that he needed somebody. Diaz' threat echoed in his head. The older boy wanted Starsky but Ronnie still didn't want to get the man involved. The young teen had tried leaving but he wanted his lighter back and the only way he knew to accomplish that was to face Diaz.

Hearing the boy sniffle, made Starsky wince. He pushed his hand through his hair.

"Where are you?" He knew the boy was afraid and maybe that would be to Starsky's advantage. He could help and at the same time, get him into a program that was right for the young homeless teen. He still wanted to be involved but wasn't sure he should go any further on his own. Admitting that Hutch and Dobey were right, Starsky prepared himself to back away but when Ronnie sniffled again, it went straight to the dark-haired man's heart. He knew he wouldn't be able to refuse whatever was asked of him.

Ronnie didn't answer. Frustrated, Starsky searched for a way to help Ronnie open up with him.

"C'mon kid. We can figure something out." He stood up, stretching the phone cord to its full length, pacing.

Encouraged that his friend still seemed to care, Ronnie hesitated only a minute more then spoke in a rush, the words tumbling out.

"Would ya meet me? I promise I'll come this time. But could it be at the playground where the gang fight was? I like it there." He was not willing to tell his friend about Diaz. He still believed that nothing would happen to either of them. He just wanted an adult to help him get his lighter back. Besides, he hadn't seen Diaz in several days, so the guy had just been all hot air. He succeeded in scaring him but with Starsky around, nothing worse could happen to him.

Deciding that there needed to be a compromise, Starsky laid out a plan that would be good for both of them. He heard fear in the boy's words and understood that Ronnie was lonely and wanted help finding his way to be part of a family again.

"I'll meet ya there but you gotta do something for me too. When I pick you up, you come back to the police station and I'll help you get set up with a social worker. That's the only way this is gonna work. I want to help you but this is the way it's gotta be." Prepared for protest or at the very least, anticipating the line to go dead, he was relieved when Ronnie agreed.

"Okay."

"Hutch and me will…" Not given an opportunity to set up a time, Ronnie broke in with his own conditions.

"No! Just you. I don't like him and he don't like me neither."

"No problem. But he sure is happy with his car. He's not so bad once you get to know him. You'll see." Starsky smiled into the phone. Thinking about Kiko and what these two boys could learn from each other, he just wanted to believe that things would work out for everyone.

They agreed on a time and before hanging up, Starsky emphasized the importance of the meeting.

"Look, I'm willing to help you, but don't back out again. You can trust me, but I gotta know that I can trust you too. Understand?"

Ronnie flipped his hair back off his face. He wasn't really lying when he'd said he'd go with Starsky; it just might not be today. So he crossed his fingers behind his back as he promised to show up.

But suddenly he knew he wasn't alone. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.


	23. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

Ronnie hung up the phone, resting his forehead on the receiver. Before he had a chance to turn around, his head was jerked back, his hair gripped by a strong hand. He already knew it was Diaz.

"Well done, little man." Diaz turned him around, grinning with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end glowed, ash floating to the ground.

Ronnie's stomach flopped into his mouth. He swallowed down the fear as he tried to wiggle away from Diaz. But he knew it was useless to struggle. It was so early that there were very few people around. Those that were gave no notice to the two boys. Hookers, early morning shop owners and delivery trucks went about their business. They had no time for two boys rough-housing.

Diaz pushed the boy ahead, keeping a tight grip around his upper arm.

"I've been watching ya know. You stopped working at that car dump… why?" They stopped abruptly in front of an old, dented pick-up truck. The paint had faded from black to a sun- bleached, rusted gray. Diaz pushed the boy into the driver's side ahead of him, shoving him over to the passenger side. After a few minutes, once the truck started, Diaz looked over at the boy, seemingly ready to continue their friendly conversation.

'Got tired of it." That was a lie. Ronnie had enjoyed the work with the old cars. Merle had been kind to him but he knew he couldn't continue there. He'd made enough money to leave, so he just stopped going. He didn't think he owed the strange old man an explanation.

"You stick with me and I'll hook you up with lots of money. You won't have to live in no stinky garage." Diaz turned to watch the expression on the teen's face. It was a mixture of anger and surprise. The thought of Diaz knowing so much about him, made him rethink his promise to Starsky. Maybe he should take him up on the offer of help.

As they got closer to the playground, Diaz seemed to get more excited. He kept up a constant stream of conversation. They arrived at the deserted playground and reversing the process, the Latino dragged the boy out of the truck and shoved him ahead to the swings.

Diaz didn't really care if Ronnie responded to his previous statement or not. He responded, more to himself than to the young boy.

"Yeah, I like that idea. You'd be my little brother, part of the gang. No one would mess with you if you're with me." By this time the young teen was held in a vice like grip and knew better than to struggle but he did try to loosen the grip across his neck. That just caused Diaz to laugh and slap the young boy's head. To Diaz it was just a gesture of affection; to Ronnie it hurt.

They got to the playground and stopped by the swings. In an effort to calm himself, Ronnie sat on a swing and began to push himself back and forth. Diaz watched for a minute then checked the area, scanning ahead of him to pick a good, secluded spot for what he had in mind.

As Ronnie pumped his legs, he decided to just ask Diaz for his lighter.

"Hey, why don't ya just give me my lighter and I'll get out of your way. You sure don't need me hanging around."

Diaz turned toward the swing, grabbed it by the chains and unexpectedly stopped Ronnie in mid-swing. It shook him physically and his fear intensified at the hatred he saw in the other boy's eyes.

"I'll give ya your damn lighter when I'm ready." Diaz pushed Ronnie backwards, sending the startled teen sliding off the swing and landing hard on his back. He was dazed, stunned at the violent reaction. He stayed where he was, panic freezing his bones.

For no apparent reason, he punched the younger teen in the face. Blood seeped from the boy's nose. He tried to wipe it away but Diaz stood over him now and suddenly kicked him in the ribs, forcing the whimpering youth on his side. He curled up and closed his eyes. His body jerked as Diaz forced him up and from somewhere a knife bit into his neck.

"Please don't hurt me. I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." Ronnie pleaded. He tried to reach his nose to wipe at the blood sliding from his nose, but his arms were pinned behind him. The knife was positioned at the neck, the muscular arm tight around his head and upper body.

They both heard tires squealing in the gravel.

"C'mon, we're gonna give our cop friend a surprise party." Diaz pulled Ronnie with him as he maneuvered them both behind an old refreshment building. There, Diaz waited, listening and planning his next move. Ronnie's heart thudded against his chest, sweat mixed with the blood from his nose as he closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to warn Starsky but his throat had gone dry and he knew he couldn't do anything to stop this.

Starsky pulled into the parking lot, spotting the swings but not Ronnie. He got out of the Torino and leaned against it as he waited. The sky was just beginning to brighten into day. He yawned; wishing he'd slept in bed instead of falling asleep on the couch. He stretched his back and moved toward the swings. Thinking about the last time he and Hutch had been in this very spot, he rubbed his head where the stitches were now just a faded reminder.

"Ronnie? Hey, wanna go for breakfast?" Starsky called out, hoping that the teen was just being cautious. Remembering that the boy didn't trust Hutch, he decided to confirm that he was alone.

"It's just me, kid. Just like I promised." He heard a muffled cry and reached for his gun. Ronnie appeared, held fast by an older boy with a wild look in his eyes and a knife pointed at his hostage's throat.

Vaguely, Starsky recognized the older boy as a member of the gang fight that had gone on in this very playground. He didn't know what role Ronnie played in this but he had to believe that he was just an innocent victim; wrong place, wrong time set up.

The terrified look in Ronnie's eyes confirmed that he was held against his will and not part of such violence. The kid was too naïve to understand what was going on around him. Somehow, this older boy had picked the young teen and manufactured some excuse to use him to get to the detective.

Starsky wished Hutch was at his side. But because of his own pride, he'd foolishly turned his back on his best friend. What kind of example was he to this young boy? How could the kid learn to trust when his mentor had issues with that same thing?

But now wasn't the time for self reflection. It was up to him to get them both out of a tough situation. He had to rely on his instincts and agility to help them both.


	24. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

Taking in the surroundings, Starsky catalogued what was in front of him, looking for a way to diffuse a tense situation.

Diaz held Ronnie at knife point. The younger boy's face was bloody, one eye swollen and bruised.

"Let the boy go." Starsky kept a steady gaze on Diaz, his gun leveled on him.

'Nah, this is my baby brother. I'm protecting him." The young boy shuddered as his captor kissed the bloody side of his face.

"I ain't your brother! Let go of me." Ronnie struggled without success.

Keeping his gaze on Diaz, Starsky tried to reassure the boy.

"It's okay Ronnie. Trust me."

Turning his attention to Diaz, Starsky kept his voice sharp but spoke in low tones.

"Who're you?"

"Oh yeah, you don't know. I'm Diaz Ramada." He slid the knife slowly down Ronnie's face, never breaking the skin. "It was me and my gang brothers you messed with and now you're gonna pay for interrupting us. This is our turf!"

The detective tried to move closer to the two boys but the older of them backed away, dragging Ronnie with him.

"I just want my lighter!" Ronnie's voice cracked with fear. He took a large gulp of air. That same fear rooted him, cemented his body and mind.

Trying to calm the boy, the detective attempted to gain Ronnie his freedom.

"This is just between you and me, Diaz. You don't need the kid so let him go."

"Yeah, right. He'll go straight to the cops." Ramada moved the knife down the boy's torso, delighted with his captor's trembling body.

Diaz wanted control, so Starsky went with that as he tried to reason with him.

"You got me here, so what's the deal? You want a fight, then get rid of the kid and face me. I'm ready, but remember, every cop in the city will be out for your ass."

Diaz laughed and squeezed his arm tighter around the teen's neck. Instantly, the boy coughed and choked. He wondered how things got so messed up. It was his fault. He was forced to witness the hatred in Diaz but he felt oddly confident that Starsky could get them out of this.

"Yeah, it's really you I want. I get rid of you, then I'm the most famous gang member. By the time anybody finds you, you'll be dead, and I'll be untouchable with the help of my brothers."

He ordered Starsky to empty the bullets from his gun. "I wanna see them drop on the ground. Do it!" He jabbed the knife into Ronnie's side for emphasis.

Quickly, Starsky did as he was asked, emptying the chamber. When it was empty, he threw the gun to the side. It slid across the dirt.

Ronnie was pushed out of the way; he tripped and landed on his side, his head hitting a rock. Instantly he went still.

"You bastard." Starsky desperately wanted to go to the boy, but he didn't dare take his eyes off Diaz. Instead he tried to gauge the extent of the boy's injuries just by talking to him.

"Ronnie, can you hear me? C'mon, get up" But the boy didn't move, didn't show any signs of having heard the words. Faint moaning came from the boy, but still Ronnie's position didn't change, he didn't even cry out for help.

Deciding to get things started and have the advantage of surprise, Starsky lunged toward Diaz, the two men fighting for the knife. The detective thought he had overpowered his attacker when he forced the knife into Diaz's neck. Diaz stared, his face dark with anger and his breath hot on Starsky's face. But then the fight changed. The younger man wrestled his body against the cop and flipped them both so that now, Diaz was on top. He snarled at his opponent, kneeling on his chest, effectively aiming the knife at his target.

Starsky felt the knife biting into his shoulder. His grip on the weapon faltered and then Diaz pushed the point deeper.

Diaz punched him in the face, stood up and stomped on the wound.

The injured man sucked in his breath, groaning against the assault. He tried getting control of the pain and willed the world to stop spinning. Above him, Diaz gloated; sneering at the man on the ground. Starsky rolled onto his side and forced himself to stand. Diaz waited, letting his adversary get his bearings. He wanted to drag this out, and make the cop suffer.

The dark-haired man held his arm tightly to his side, blood seeping through the shirt. He swayed slightly, then propelled himself, head down, as he aimed for the other man's stomach. He connected and they both went down, rolling and vying for control. Slowly, Diaz got up, holding his side. He shook off the pain of cracked ribs and the nauseous feeling in his stomach.

The gang member grunted with effort as he leaned forward, waving his knife which somehow he still possessed. He reached out, slicing the buttons off Starsky's shirt.

Struggling for breath, Starsky looked down at his shredded piece of clothing.

"Now ya did it. That was my favorite shirt."

Wincing as he fought against his own pain, he shook himself, trying to clear his mind. But instantly the air hit the exposed open gash in his shoulder, causing his pain to increase and the sticky blood another reminder that he was in bad shape.

The detective shifted his weight, It was now his turn to inflict pain on his enemy. This time, he acted quickly despite the fact that the damn knife was still a menace and the possibility of death looming nearer. He landed a few well placed punches to face and kidney area, causing the young man to fall to his knees. The knife fell out of his hand and Starsky kicked it away. Now the fight was at least even. Hand to hand, fist to fist, muscle against muscle.

Starsky rocked sideways, gained his footing and kicked the fallen man in the side, cracking another rib.

Diaz groaned, spat to the side and forced himself to his feet.

"That's it, pig. I'm gonna feed ya to my dog." Diaz growled, his eyes smoldering with hatred.

"Bring it on punk." Starsky taunted him, even though his energy was swiftly bleeding out and the pain wearing him down.

However, Diaz could smell fear. His opponent was getting weaker. Like any animal, the Latino sensed that the end was near and readied himself for the final strike.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

They circled once or twice. Starsky's arm burned with pain. He felt light headed and short of breath.

Diaz also was battling fatigue but he pushed it away, concentrating on inflicting damage to his opponent.

Suddenly, Diaz attacked, kicking Starsky's knee. They both heard a cracking noise as the injured man fell heavily to the ground. Staring at his leg which now was in an unnatural position, he began to think that Diaz was right.

He was in deep shit.

In fact he was attacked again, this time a knee to his belly as Diaz landed on top of him. He was sure he felt his insides explode as his attacker punched him in the gut, then got up and kicked at his side.

Starsky coughed, feeling the blood as it dribbled down his chin. He took in great gulps of air which only caused the burning pain in his lungs to get worse. He waited for the next assault, mildly surprised when it didn't come as quickly as he expected.

Diaz didn't disappoint though. He had retrieved his knife and now straddled the fallen man.

"Had enough yet?" He held the knife so that Starsky's eyes followed the movement.

"I don't go down so easy, scum." The tortured man's voice was low but he still had enough energy to galvanize one last burst of energy.

With all that he could summon, he made a fist, reached up and landed a sucker punch to the other man's eye. Diaz was surprised so he ended up rolling off the prone body, holding his face and groaning.

Starsky tried to force himself to get up one more time. But it was not possible. He stayed where he was, waiting to die. He knew it was only a matter of time.

Getting up again to straddle his enemy, Diaz retaliated swiftly. He smashed his fist into Starsky's face repeatedly. The ring that he wore on his right hand cut into the battered face, splitting lip, cheek and eye brow.

He began to laugh when Starsky didn't react. He knew he'd done what he set out to do. The man on the ground had passed out.

But one more thing, one more action was required.

He took his knife and lanced the man's thigh. When the wound bled, he ripped the rest of the pant leg, slicing it down to the ankle. The exposed wound bubbled, pulsed with blood, running down the naked flesh.

With perverse pleasure, he took the knife and began to carve out a brand on the bleeding leg. He didn't care that he was giving authorities his identity. It wouldn't matter because the man would be dead by the time he was found and Diaz himself would be invisible. The gang would cover him in their web of protection, giving him the chance to escape without being caught.

He glanced away from his artwork, seeking a place to dispose of the body.

Not happy with the surroundings, he decided that a dumpster near an abandoned warehouse would be perfect.

He got Starsky into a sitting position and tossed him over his shoulder. The man was heavy but Diaz was used to lifting bales and sacks of material all day at the docks. Shouldering his burden, he slowly made his way to his truck and dumped the body in the back. He covered him with a tarp. During this time, Starsky never moved but did groan as he hit the hard surface of the truck bed.

Ronnie still lay where he'd landed on the ground. Diaz didn't concern himself with the young boy, except he returned to the boy and threw the lighter on the ground next to him. He always kept his word.

The streets were still fairly deserted. It was late morning now but he'd chosen a route which wasn't normally busy. He took back alleys, avoiding the main streets and traffic lights.

Arriving at the dumpster, Diaz checked out the dumpster, satisfied that it was the perfect place to discard garbage.

Letting the man fall into the container, Diaz was exhilarated at the result of his abuse. The man's leg twisted at an odd angle, the bone sticking out, visible. His shirt had fallen off, exposing the shoulder wound and other various cuts and bruises to his face and torso. He gave no notice to the shoe that had fallen off and landed to the side of the garbage dumpster. He only delighted in the bleeding, comatose form.

He leaned against the refuse container, casually smoking a cigarette. He looked at the glowing end then at the still body among the garbage. Diaz took the burning end of the cigarette and set it against Starsky's bare chest. He watched as the hair singed, disappearing and leaving a round, red blotch on the skin. He did it a few more times, enjoying the abuse. Starsky groaned and coughed but didn't fully awake.

Diaz got bored and dropped the still glowing cigarette to the ground. As if he hadn't a care in the world, he got back in his truck and drove off, leaving the wounded man to die among the garbage.

*******HHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSSHSHSH*************************

"Hutchinson! Where's your partner?" Dobey bellowed from the open door to his office. Actually, Hutch was wondering the same thing.

Yesterday, after Dobey had introduced a new case, Hutch had gone to interrogate the suspect. By the time he got home it was well after midnight. Not one call from Starsky, who was probably still brooding. But it wouldn't surprise the blond to see his friend burst through the doors, whistling as if it was just another day.

"Probably just slept in. I'm sure he'll be here soon." Hutch bent his head to examine the folder in front of him. He heard Dobey's blustering wordless aggravation and tried to ignore it.

It wasn't like his partner to ignore the responsibilities of his job. No matter what had gone down between them, Starsky would arrive on time, be professional and carry out his duties as required. He could do all this without any personal connection with his partner. It was not something Hutch enjoyed and thankfully, the situation had only occurred on a few occasions. But now, he didn't know if he should be worried or angry. He could go to the man's home walk in, demanding answers but there was still something in Hutch that wanted to hold his ground, not give in, and not be the one to apologize.

He looked at the clock on the wall again. Mildly startled to see that it was after lunch time, Hutch was sure Captain Dobey would make another appearance in the squad room, looking for Starsky and demanding his badge if he didn't show immediately. The detective stood up and was about to walk into his superior's office to ask for more time, when the doors opened, revealing a bloody, tearful and scared young boy. Hutch went directly to Ronnie, worried about the confused look in the teen's eyes. He guided him to a chair and crouched in front of him. He watched as the boy's body shook as if he was cold but realized that it was from shock. He tried to ignore the nagging suspicion that this had something to do with his friend, but for now, Hutch addressed the present situation in front of him.

"How did this happen Ronnie?" When the boy didn't answer right away, Hutch stood up, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and went to the water cooler where he saturated the material with cool water. When he went back to the boy and began wiping at the blood that had caked on his face, the teen startled and tried to pull away.

Now suddenly aware of where he was, Ronnie took a big gulp of air and touched the back of his head. His hand came away bloody. Surprised, the blond immediately pressed the damp cloth to the area, feeling a large knot at the base of his skull.

"Who did this?" Hutch was losing patience and steadily becoming more worried about his partner. He looked straight into the confused and frightened eyes of the young boy as he asked again, a little more forceful this time.

"What happened?"

Ronnie sniffed, wiped his nose with the back of his hand before he spoke. He was so frightened that he spoke as if he had laryngitis, his voice hoarse and scratchy. But the meaning was clear to the detective.

"I think he's dead."


	26. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

"He's dead and it's my fault." Ronnie's head dropped, his chin touching his chest.

At first, Hutch only stared at the boy. Thinking back, he remembered the emotion Starsky felt as he talked about the teen. His partner felt a connection to this boy, one that the blond didn't understand.

Hutch began to pace.

The blond had to move slowly if he wanted to find out more. After all, Ronnie would have been the last person to see Starsky. He had to separate his feelings against facts. It seemed logical to start with the most glaring accusation.

"So, you're part of Diaz's gang?" Hutch wanted to be wrong but didn't think he was. He wasn't sure he'd believe anything this boy had to say, but he owed it to his partner to at least try.

Ronnie's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I ain't part of any gang. I didn't know… shit, you ain't gonna believe anything I say."

"Let's b-back up here. Why d-didn't you m-meet Starsky here yesterday?" The annoying stutter made the blond slow up even more. His head was spinning with questions but he had to decide what was most important to know first.

The boy sat up, flipping the hair off his forehead. "I chickened out. I didn't want to come here but especially, didn't want to havta face you. You don't like me and I'm not too crazy about you either."

Hutch didn't deny that fact. More than anything, he wanted answers quickly. He didn't have to like the kid; he just needed to know what happened to his friend.

The boy's face turned red with shame, but he continued his story.

"Spent it mostly tryin' to hide from Diaz. But he found me anyway when I called Starsky. That's when he grabbed me. I had to have my lighter back. Diaz took it from me, said I'd get it back if I brought you or Starsky to him. I didn't think anything would happen." The boy hunched forward, crossing his arms over his belly.

"He used you to get to my partner? Why didn't you warn him?" Hutch felt his chest tighten. His guilt began to build. What if Ronnie was right? What if he was just an innocent victim of a gang member out for revenge?

He was suddenly hit with remorse. Because of his own preconceived ideas, his partner was now in danger and this boy in front of him was hurting and scared.

Hutch reached out, and gently squeezed Ronnie's neck. The boy looked up, confusion on his face. Hutch acted as if he cared, but still, Ronnie didn't trust him. He was anxious about his friend and didn't see the need for all the questions.

The detective let out a deep breath, massaged his neck as he studied the teen. Reversing his thinking he realized it was important to focus more about what the boy remembered.

"For now, just tell me when you last saw Starsky." The detective pinched the bridge of his nose. He stopped at his desk, pulled open the desk drawer and rummaged through it, looking for a bottle of aspirin. He set it on the table as Ronnie spoke again, the aspirin temporarily forgotten.

"Diaz held a knife at my throat. He made Starsky empty his gun. Then he pushed me and I fell and I don't remember nothin' else. That was early this morning. I couldn't help him! Can't we just go look for him?"

Hutch's misgivings were ringing loudly in his ears. He kept telling himself that this was not happening. If he would've just followed Starsky yesterday… damn, he had to get his head back to questions instead of thinking too far ahead.

Ronnie grabbed the bottle of aspirin that still sat on the table. Hutch sighed and went to fill two cups with water.

After downing the aspirin, Ronnie stood up, faltered and sat back down quickly.

Hutch reached out to him, concerned for the moment about his well being. Ronnie indicated he was okay, frowned and then continued speaking.

"Why are ya hassling me? Why won't ya just come with me to help Starsky?"

Hutch shoved his hand through his hair, trying to decide if the boy was sincere about his concern. He wanted to believe that Starsky was okay.

"Let me ask you this, why do you think he's… dead?" It was difficult to even get the word out let alone think about it. But this kid was obviously the last to be with Starsky.

Ronnie hesitated. He was getting frustrated. Too much talking. This wasn't helping Starsky at all.

"Because of Diaz." The boy shifted in the chair, stretching his back, then gingerly touched his swollen eye. "He's a bad dude. He's mean and dangerous. He's the one who clubbed Starsky over the head during the fight." He watched Hutch's eyes grow large at that piece of news.

Before the blond could respond, his superior opened his office door, coming through the squad room, his voice loud and agitated.

"What the hell is going on? First, Starsky doesn't show up for work, now I get a report that a black and white found his car abandoned at the playground where you guys…." He stopped screaming when he saw the young boy sitting with Hutch. The boy cringed at the aggressive attitude of the big black man. Dobey nodded his head in the boy's direction. Suddenly the pieces fell together for him.

The detective sighed, moving to stand beside the teen.

"Captain, this is Ronnie. The boy Starsky wanted to help. Now he tells me Starsky's in danger or… worse."

"What the hell are you doing here then? Go, man! Take him with ya and let me know what you find." It didn't take any more encouragement for Hutch to make a move. Quickly, he picked up his jacket, pulled Ronnie out of the chair and pushed toward the exit. Speaking over his shoulder, the blond barked out an order of his own.

"Put an APB out on Diaz Ramada. Find the bastard."

"Hutchinson!" Dobey called after the pair, stopping their forward movement.

Hutch turned toward his captain, impatiently waiting for the man to finish the expected command. Hutch prepared himself for further blustering from the black man but the captain's voice lowered, pleading with the god's in Starsky's favor.

"Keep me informed." The men spent a few seconds connected in their concern. The moment was broken when Dobey grumbled something under his breath as he shut his office door behind him.


	27. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

Waiting for the elevator doors to open, Hutch turned to face Ronnie. Studying the boy, he held the bruised face in his hands, looking directly into the determined glint in the swollen eyes.

"I'll get an officer to take you to the hospital. Your injuries need looked after."

The boy stood up straight, pushing Hutch's hand away.

"No way. I got Starsky into this; I'm going with ya to find him."

Hutch didn't respond further. Ronnie had his mind made up and nothing was going to change it. Hutch was familiar with teen-age stubbornness, having seen enough of it in Kiko.

They entered the elevator and stood facing the door. He put his arm lightly across the teen's shoulders, trying to ignore the shudder that he felt there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hutch looked at Ronnie.

"He's a pretty special guy." Hutch remained facing forward.

"Yeah. He's pretty cool." Ronnie shifted from foot to foot, also continuing to stare straight ahead.

Nothing else was said as they drove to the playground where Ronnie had last seen Starsky. It wasn't an easy silence but at least they were united in their desire to find their friend.

Hutch spent the time as he drove to prepare for what he might find. Starsky would never willingly abandon his car. Obviously, he had met with Diaz but his fate was unknown. However, the blond feared that the result would not be easy to comprehend. He couldn't stop his own guilt from consuming him. He should have taken Starsky's interest in the boy seriously. Instead, he was headed to a crime scene involving his partner saddled with a kid he neither understood nor trusted.

He glanced over at Ronnie who was quiet and appeared to be in deep thought. Ronnie was thinking that the two of them were kinda stuck with each other, but slowly he discovered that he didn't particularly dislike Hutch anymore. But he still didn't trust him. He couldn't think of anything to talk about so he sat quietly, chewing his bottom lip, worried that Diaz would find him. He guessed that Hutch would protect him, but Ronnie just didn't feel safe. He wanted to prove to the detective that he was sorry for the trouble he'd caused. Trying to stop the scary thoughts, instead he listened to the strong engine in the car. He'd worked on it with Starsky. They'd made a pretty good team. He shut his eyes, pulling away from thinking about him like he didn't exist anymore. He forced himself back to evaluating Hutch's car, proud of how it handled.

As they arrived at the playground, Hutch skidded to a stop at the entrance. Robert Thurston, the lead investigator looked up from inspecting something on the ground, stood up to join Hutchinson. He knew both the detectives and wasn't looking forward to pointing out all the grim details of what had happened here. He understood about partners but was even more attuned to the friendship beyond partnership of this particular pair.

The blond turned to Ronnie as the boy got out of the car. He would have preferred that the teen stay in the car, but realized that he could help fill in some of the pieces that would be important to know.

"Stay out of the way and don't touch anything." He didn't miss the scowl on Ronnie's face, but didn't take the time to lighten the warning.

When they reached the fence, Hutch stopped and faced Ronnie. Not understanding what was going through the boy's head, he stood stiffly, his eyes a steely blue.

Ronnie held onto the gate, his head bent, breathing uneven. Hutch lifted his chin, looked straight into his eyes. His emotions close to the surface as he took in Ronnie's words.

"I'm sorry I screwed up. Sorry I wasn't braver." Ronnie's voice wasn't more than a whisper.

"What's that mean? You aren't responsible for what may have happened here." Hutch scanned the playground, anxious to find out what the detective would tell him about his partner. But he needed the boy to be strong and clear headed. A few minutes wouldn't matter, even though his stomach clenched with worry of his own.

"I shoulda told Starsky about Diaz. Then this never woulda happened." Ronnie scraped the toe of his shoe in the dirt. He waited for Hutch to yell at him, to hear that he was worthless. After all, he'd heard that enough from his teachers, even from his own father. His dad said even more than that to him. But he wanted to prove them all wrong. He wanted to prove to Hutch that he was capable and willing to help.

"You and I need to have a long talk. Unfortunately, now isn't the time. Just let me say this. It's not your fault. Diaz is to blame for all of it. He just used you to get to Starsky. It could've easily been me." Hutch lightly pushed Ronnie's shoulder, urging him forward.

"See these tire tracks? Those are made by the Torino.' Hutch pointed as they slowly walked toward the red car.

Ronnie scanned the ground, noticing the other set of tracks. He suddenly knew how he could help.

"Those tracks were made by Diaz's Chevy El Camino. It's mostly rust, but it's black and in worse shape than your car." He looked up at the detective, a smile creasing his face. He tried not to flinch when Hutch ruffled his hair. But when Hutch called one of the other cops over and instructed him to take down Ronnie's description of the vehicle, he felt important. He felt that he'd just given valuable information.

Seeing the slight change in Ronnie, Hutch was satisfied for the moment that the boy had just discovered something in himself. He saw the same thing in Kiko when he'd finally figured out who his real friends were. Kiko too had felt he didn't need anybody in his life, that all adults were useless and cruel.

He massaged his neck, feeling the tension there and in his shoulders. Fear guided him toward the Torino, where Detective Thurston waited for him. Taking a deep breath into his lungs, he readied himself for learning Starsky's fate. He had to get through this, had to find Starsky.

But that goal felt a long way off as Robert guided him to the swings where Ronnie said that Diaz had confronted Starsky. Hutch did his best to treat the area as just another crime; asking questions, trying to stay focused and not that of his partner's disappearance.

His stomach suddenly churned with bile as he saw the remains of Starsky's shirt on the ground. As he got nearer, he squatted down beside it, examining without touching. But it was plain to see that Starsky had fought well but had lost much. The shirt was shredded, dirty and bloody. He longed to pick it up, to feel Starsky's strength, but it was now evidence of a crime, evidence that Starsky had lost more than his shirt.

There was blood on the ground as well. He rubbed his face. A headache started behind his eyes, but he willed it away, ignoring it, refusing to be sidelined until he'd brought Starsky home.

"Detective?" Robert Thurston called to Hutch. Satisfied that his fellow detective had heard him, he now pointed out other disturbing pieces of evidence of the area. He hated seeing the distress on the blonde's face, but kept his own thoughts impersonal. "Sir, you need to see this as well. We've already searched the area without any success…"

Hutch stood up slowly. He looked down at Starsky's gun in the dirt, bullets spread out around it. He understood that the first cops on the scene would have done their job thoroughly, but a part of him wished they would all go away and leave him to mourn. Damn, he had to stop the morbid thoughts. Starsky was strong and intelligent. They would find him. He couldn't stop the added condition, the real question; would they find his friend in time?


	28. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27**

They didn't find any other evidence of Starsky or Diaz at the playground. Hutch doggedly searched for himself the abandoned school and all out buildings surrounding it. But he didn't really expect to find anything.

He stood in the center of the vacant lot, staring at Starsky's car, wishing the vehicle could tell him what had happened in its presence. A lot of time had passed since Starsky was last seen with no idea as to where he was now.

Ronnie had gone to wait in Hutch's car. The boy was tired and Hutch knew, he would also be hungry. They should go, but the blond wouldn't rest until Starsky was found. He pushed aside his guilt hoping that focusing on Ronnie would ease his mind at least temporarily.

Getting back into the LTD, he looked over at his passenger. Ronnie's head bobbed as he fought against the desire to sleep.

"You hungry?" At the question, Ronnie's head snapped up as he stared at Hutch. They both heard the boy's stomach growl with the answer.

"I guess so." Hutch smiled as he put the car in gear and headed back toward his home.

"What are you hungry for?" Thinking the boy would say pizza or hamburgers, he was surprised by Ronnie's familiar answer.

"I like burritos. I always wanted to try The Burrito Shack over on Sandune Lane." He sat up straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes.

"That's Starsky's favorite place. We can go there if you want." Amused at the likeness of these two people, he wondered that maybe the boy wasn't that different from the man he'd known for so many years. That knot of concern twisted tighter, making him more anxious to know where his friend was.

Later, they sat in a booth, Ronnie devouring everything he could get his hands on. He'd already had a burrito with onions no less. Then he'd eaten two tacos, the rice from his own plate then he'd polished off the remains of Hutch's mostly uneaten meal. Obviously, the kid hadn't eaten regularly or recently by the way he'd kept up a steady pace of getting the food into his mouth. Looking closer, Hutch knew the boy also needed a bath and his clothes could stand to be washed but that could come later. He let the boy enjoy the second glass of milk before finally paying the bill and headed for home.

They were both silent as Hutch drove them home. Now having a full stomach for the first time in months, Ronnie was sleepy and satisfied. Hutch couldn't settle his mind enough and knew that this would be a long, lonely night.

Ronnie paced the open living space, flicking at the leaves of a plant, checking out the bathroom. Finally he settled on the couch and picked up Hutch's guitar.

Easily, he held the instrument and began getting the feel of the strings, playing a soft tune.

"Who taught you to play?" Hutch stopped in front of the couch, listening to the sleepy melody.

"My brother Dylan. He played in a band. When he left for Viet Nam, he told me I could keep his guitar. He was always so cool about stuff. I really miss him." Ronnie put the instrument down, picked up a pillow and folded himself over it. He held the small pillow against his belly as if to keep his stomach from leaking out. Hutch understood that feeling. Right now, he was so nervous and worried, his gut burned with the tension.

Hutch didn't have the words to comfort the young boy. He didn't even know what to think about his own friend so he busied himself getting towels for his guest and sheets and a pillow for himself. He wanted Ronnie to be comfortable and feel wanted so the boy would sleep in his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. That way, he'd be close to the phone if Dobey called with news or… maybe Starsky would call.

Suddenly he was exhausted. His body ached, shoulders and neck tense. He left to get a shower. He let the warm water slide over his back as he leaned into the spray. Where was Starsky? If he were able, Hutch was sure that his friend would try to contact him, but since he hadn't did that mean he was dead? He smacked the wall of the shower in frustration. When the water ran cold, he shut it off. He wrapped his thick robe around himself and went back to the living room.

Ronnie stretched out on the couch, a blanket thrown over his lower body, sleeping soundly. The detective didn't have the heart to disturb him so Hutch just got another blanket from the closet and sank into a comfortable chair.

He propped his feet up on the coffee table and spread the blanket across his body. He let his head fall back against the chair and closed his eyes as he went over the details that he knew about Starsky's fight with Diaz. His friend would not have given up his gun easily unless it was necessary in order to save Ronnie. Even with no gun, Starsky still would have been able to defend himself against Diaz.

If he had only taken Starsky's interest in Ronnie seriously, then his friend would never have left the precinct angry. What ever the outcome, Hutch had a lot to apologize for. He found himself liking the boy and feeling comfortable with him. Knowing that his partner saw something in the boy worthwhile, should have been enough for him. He should have respected those instincts. But Hutch had needed proof. He'd had a hard time seeing anything other than malice in the boy's actions the day of the gang fight. Holding the bloody board over Starsky's head was evidence enough at the time to prove the young boy was dangerous. But he hadn't analyzed the whole picture. No wonder Starsky had been so angry with him. Hutch deserved that. Because he had been so selfish and unkind, Starsky now was alone and in danger.

Even though he fought sleep, his body gave in to exhaustion but his mind wouldn't rest. Images of death and pain pursued him. In those dreams, Starsky reached out a bloody hand but the blond was unable to hear him or reach his friend.

He struggled against the torturous dreams. Mental images flashed constantly. He was helpless against them until his body tensed and finally he awoke.


	29. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

Finally, the end of his shift. The garbage collector yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He looked around the abandoned alley, seeing if he'd missed anything else that might be of use to one of his homeless friends. The blue running shoe would make somebody awfully happy.

The alley and dumpster were the last run for Larry. He opened the truck door, tossed the shoe into the box along with the cigarette butts. He started the truck again and maneuvered closer to the dumpster. He set the controls and as the claws came up to grab the container, the brakes bucked and the engine wheezed and stopped.

"Shit, not now!" Larry grabbed his hat and tossed it with frustration to the floor of the truck. He set the brake again and got out. He fiddled with a few things on the front of the truck, kicked a tire and banged on the driver's door. This always seemed to work whenever the truck acted up. He knew that all it really did was just gave him a chance to vent his frustration.

He cocked his head toward the dumpster. He could have sworn he heard something.

"Probably a damn cat, stuck in there." He wasn't in the mood to investigate so he just made his way over to the dumpster and banged on the side.

"Get outta there! Go on home!" Expecting to see a frightened animal leap out over the top, he stood, waiting. But nothing happened. No more noise. The alley was quiet, just a few newspapers flying around in the wind that had picked up. Figuring that's what he'd heard, Larry got back into the truck, preparing to pick the dumpster up, empty into the truck and get his day over. As the claws connected to the container, the machine rattled and coughed and leaving the container in mid air, the truck stopped again.

"Damn it, I just wanna go home." Tempted to get the truck untangled and forget it, Larry leaned back against the seat and sighed.

But something caught his attention. As he'd been sitting there, staring at the dumpster in front of him, he narrowed his eyes, squinting at the opening of the container. He sat forward, putting his hands on the dashboard to get a better look.

"What the fuck?" In front of him was a hand resting on the lip of the dumpster. He even thought he saw it move. He gulped once. He gulped a second time as he set the truck in motion to lower the container back on the ground and release it from the claws.

Slowly, he got out and walked toward the dumpster. Now that the dumpster had jostled back to the ground, the hand was no longer there.

As he stood, wondering what to do, a noise came from the refuse container that left no doubt as to what was in there. Larry was positive that no animal could make that kind of plea.

He peered over the edge, gagging at what he found; a man's body, spread out, arms flung to the sides, the legs abnormally positioned. He didn't have a shirt on and only one leg of the pants remained. So much blood. The garbage the man was slumped on top of was stained dark brown, red. Larry wasn't sure if it was the garbage that stank or if the putrid smell came from the man. Further inspection showed the mate to the shoe Larry had picked up earlier.

"Sweet Jesus!" Larry crossed himself in a hurry as he breathed out the words.

"Mister, can you hear me? Mister?" Larry was afraid to even touch him so he waited for a response.

"ush…" A few sounds escaped the swollen, battered mouth.

"Ummm, don't move buddy. I.. I… I gotta go for help! There's a phone just down on the corner. I'll be back as soon as I can"

**************SHSHSHSH*******************

Dobey picked up the phone on the first ring. Out of habit, he awakened quickly not wanting to disturb his family. It had been a long day and the night too short. His concern for Starsky was only slightly less than his anxiety over Hutch.

Now, he pushed himself up in bed, instantly awake. He looked over at his sleeping wife and tried to keep his voice low.

"Dobey here." He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair.

"_Captain, it's Charles Philbert. I'm on the night desk."_

Rolling his eyes, wondering why in the world the precinct would be calling him, unless…

He looked over again to find Edith sitting up, listening to his conversation. Her intuition told her that her husband would have another long day at work. She got up and slipped into her robe.

Whispering to her husband, she told him she understood.

"Harold, I'll go make coffee." She was used to late night and early morning phone calls. That was part of being the wife of a police captain who took his job to heart.

Harold Dobey smiled gratefully at his amazing wife; spoke into the phone as she headed downstairs.

"Okay, why are you calling me at…" He glanced at the clock by the bed "…this time of the morning?" Although he felt he already knew the answer, he wanted to be sure.

"Sorry, sir. We had a phone call about half an hour ago from a garbage man who said he found a man in a dumpster. Not much of a description but knowing that you've got a missing detective…" He didn't need to finish his sentence for Dobey to pick up on the possible identification.

Heaving a tired sigh, the captain closed his eyes briefly. A few more questions to the other officer revealed the answers that Dobey had feared all along. The garbage man knew only that it was a man who'd been badly beaten and was bleeding.

Dobey hung up and made a few calls of his own. An hour later, he was certain that Starsky had been found. He dreaded the next few hours but he had to be the one to tell Hutchinson.


	30. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**

Finally, the nightmare released him. Hutch felt his body spasm painfully as he jerked awake. But it left him feeling sluggish and disoriented with a vague feeling that he hadn't awakened on his own. He was relieved to see that Ronnie was still asleep on the couch. The blond continued to sit on the chair, the blanket pooled on the floor. Suddenly, a noise from the other side of his door propelled him out of the chair.

"Oh my god, Starsky…"

Listless from sleep, his mind not quite sure of the day or time, and the gruesome images from his dream of a bloody Starsky, pushed him forward. Disappointed and relieved at the same time, he opened the door, only to find Captain Dobey standing there.

Convinced that his dream was a reality, his hand slid off the door handle and his shoulders hunched forward, already knowing what his superior was there to tell him.

He felt himself wobbling but was saved from falling by the large, powerful hands of Dobey who held him up and steered his detective to the kitchen.

Leaving him sitting limply on a chair, the captain went over to the sleeping teen-ager. He'd had a lot of experience guiding a drowsy child from one spot to another without them ever being aware of it. It was that way now as the captain led the boy to Hutch's bedroom, making sure he was covered and truly asleep before returning to the kitchen.

"I knew it. I saw it in my dream." Hunched forward in his chair, Hutch's chin rested on his chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

"Hutchinson, listen…" Dobey sat opposite his detective, trying to get the man's attention.

"He's dead. Why else would you be here?" Hutch's voice wasn't more than a whisper.

Dobey stood up and began to pace. Suddenly he stopped in front of his detective, intent on getting the man's attention.

"Sit up straight detective." His booming voice got through to the grieving blond. As Hutch looked into the intent brown eyes, he began to see a glimmer there, a hint of the truth.

"We found him." Captain Dobey reached out as Hutch got up from his chair. He held him back, wanting the detective to pay attention to what he had to say.

"He's not dead." Dobey's words were precise, his voice clear. Hutch listened, focusing directly on the weathered black face.

"He's badly beaten up, knife wounds… barely alive." He hated saying the words but he knew Hutch would want the truth, all of it.

"I have to go to him." Again, Hutch stood up but this time Dobey didn't try to stop him. But the detective turned his frustration and fears toward his captain who was ready for the onslaught of emotion.

"Why didn't you call me when you first found him? I should've been there…" Hutch stopped his tirade. He pushed his hand through his hair, suddenly weak with guilt.

"It's my fault he got beat up. I shoulda followed him when he flew out of the squad room. He was mad and I didn't…" He wandered over to the couch and sat there, mindlessly folding the blanket that Ronnie had used.

"I can't begin to understand what the two of you disagreed about, but I do know that Starsky needs you now. You need him." The captain shifted in his chair, searching for the right words that would help.

"Look son, it's not your fault. That bastard Diaz was out for blood."

Dobey sat on the chair, unsure what else to say. He knew these two detectives were close friends and he respected that partnership. When in danger, they would move heaven and earth to bring the other back.

"Cap, I didn't trust Starsky's opinion about Ronnie. He's really a good kid. He didn't see why I was so hurt when Kiko didn't want me in his life; I should have known that Starsky saw more in the boy than was obvious. I guess I was jealous." He stood up again and paced the room. He stopped at the alcove and stared at the young boy, asleep with not a care in the world.

"It would be great to have that kind of trust, wouldn't it? He's so sure that things will work out that it doesn't keep him from sleeping. Me? I had nightmares all night…" It seemed he had temporarily forgotten the reason for Dobey's visit. He turned back into the living room looking for his jacket.

"Where is he?" He slid his arms into his jacket and grabbed his car keys as he headed for the door.

"Wait… He's at Memorial Hospital but there's a black and white cruiser downstairs. They'll take you. I'll meet you there later."

Dobey watched the man retreat and a moment later, he heard tires squeal and siren blare as the black and white headed toward the hospital.

Dobey slumped down on the couch, scratching his head, wondering at the constant danger his men were exposed to because of their job. He turned around as Ronnie entered the living area. His hair disheveled from sleep, he rubbed his fist in his eyes.

"What's the matter?" Looking around for Hutch the boy looked warily at the big black man. "You gonna take me to the Juvie Detention Center?" He backed up, ready to run if that was what the captain had in mind.

"Hutch had to go out. So grab your things and you can come home with me. I've got a son about your age." Dobey had talked it over with Edith and they'd both agreed to take the boy in until this had all been resolved. It was important that the boy remain safe and for now, living with a cop would be better than anywhere else.

"Is it about Starsky?" The boy asked as he gathered his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. "Is he okay?"

Dobey decided that the boy deserved to know what was going on. "We found Starsky. He's been badly beaten up."

The teen winced. He'd seen what Diaz could do with his knife and he felt his stomach muscles tighten.

Ronnie stood still, his shoulders shaking while silent tears ran down his cheeks. The black man pulled the child in his strong arms and held him until the tears stopped.

He sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Can I see him?"

Dobey ruffled the boy's hair and hugged him again. "Not yet. Once he's out of danger." The captain released the boy and headed for the door.

Ronnie wanted to ask what was going to happen now but didn't really want that answer. For now, he'd go with the captain. He was tired of moving around and really wanted a family of his own. Maybe that would come but for now, he followed the captain down the steps and into the car.

Dobey was thinking of his two favorite detectives, praying silently for their safety. Then he switched his thoughts to getting the teen-ager to his home. Edith would swoop in immediately, getting the boy cleaned up and into clean clothes, borrowed from their son Cal. She would gladly provide the love and support that the homeless child needed.

The boy wasn't the only person in need of love and support.


	31. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**

The police cruiser had barely stopped before Hutch pushed open the door and flew up the steps to the hospital two at a time. The waiting room was full of people dealing with their own emergencies, but Hutch wasn't aware of any of it.

He and Starsky had enough experience with the hospital that they knew their way around. Hutch swept passed the intake desk and flashed his badge at the harried nurse. His long, purposeful strides transported him back to the treatment rooms, looking left and right for his partner.

He hesitated at the opening of one cubicle when he caught sight of curly black hair. There were so many people crowded around the bed but he instinctively knew it was his friend. He stood at the entrance to the room for a moment as the doctor and nurses continued to catalogue what they found. Phrases like, -_type and cross match, x-ray and vital signs- _swirled around the room, keeping everyone busy with their assigned task. Hutch crept further into the room but immediately he found himself flat against the wall, stuck there as if held by fly paper. The scene was far worse than he expected and his friend hardly recognizable. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. So far the medical personnel had not noticed him so he stayed where he was.

Starsky's eyes were swollen shut. In fact, his face was extremely distorted, bruised and many cuts crossed his features.

His chest was bare revealing a deep gash to his upper chest area. Blood still trickled from the opening revealing it to be jagged and raw. Streaks of blood had dribbled down his chest and matted in the hair across it and streamed down his belly. His hands lay at his side, but Hutch could tell that they too were sliced and bleeding, evidence that his friend had fought back hard.

The middle part of his body was covered by a sheet, exposing both legs, revealing two different kinds of problems. The blond stared for a long time at the detective's right leg which was at an unusual angle and exposed bone sticking out.

Also Hutch gulped when he noticed the gash on Starsky's hip. It was raw, deep and still bleeding.

His stomach churned at what he saw but his heart broke with the guilt that surrounded him.

"Please sir, you can't be in here." The nurse was petite with flashing green eyes, her white uniform crisp, and her cap sitting squarely on her brunette hair. In another setting, the men would have vied for her attention. But now, Hutch regarded her as a barrier, keeping him from the wounded man.

Without taking his eyes off of his friend, Hutch spoke quietly. "He's my partner. We're cops." So far Starsky had not moved or made any sound. Hutch swallowed. The blond wanted, needed to go nearer and let him know that he wasn't alone. He looked around, vaguely aware of the monitors that beeped and the green and white lines rising up and down across the screen. He knew it meant his friend was still alive, but not until he could touch Starsky and feel for himself the pulse in his wrist, would he believe it.

"He won't know you're here." The nurse gently but firmly steered the man toward the door but Hutch stood his ground.

"I'm not leaving till I talk to him. He'll know it's me." He continued to move closer, choosing a spot near the end of the bed. He leaned down to grasp Starsky's hand. He flinched at the cold clamminess in his large, sweaty hand. He grasped it and squeezed lightly. The doctor worked around him, never speaking to him.

"Starsk, hang on. I'm right here." He leaned closer, speaking softly. "I'm not going anywhere." He felt responsible for each ounce of lost blood and all debilitating wounds to his friend. Had he been by his side, he could have prevented all of this.

A slight groan escaped the battered lips. Hutch looked toward the doctor, making sure he had heard the cry. He reached out, stroking a small, unmarked area of the battered body. The blond moved only inches when the doctor vied for access to his patient.

The emergency room doctor leaned down to listen to the injured man's heart. Satisfied, he straightened his back and flipped the stethoscope across his neck.

Another whimper from Starsky had Hutch's heart constricting in his chest. He couldn't stand knowing that his friend was in pain and he was unable to help him.

Hutch was unaware that time had passed. The doctor had left to wait for test results while the nurse remained near her patient.

Hutch continued hovering. The cubicle was filled with the steady noise of the monitors. In a way it was comforting. At least there was no artificial breathing apparatus strapped to his partner.

It was always disorienting to be faced with his partner being so dependent on other people. Neither of them liked being out of control of their surroundings. Hutch sat down, grasping the reddened, raw hand of his friend. At least it was warmer now. The guilt washed over him as he took in the damaged body.

"I'm sorry Starsk." He spoke quietly, not caring if the nurse heard him. He knew that in some way, Starsky would know he was there, even though he had not gained consciousness. "I'll get you through this. I let you down once, but it won't happen again."

Hutch raised his eyes to the monitors to convince himself that Starsky's heart still beat and he felt for the pulse in his wrist. It was weak but it was definitely there. April caught Hutch's attention as she took the time to introduce herself and to reassure the visitor.

"I'm April, his nurse until after surgery." She smiled briefly, then continued observing and recording her findings. "He's surprisingly strong given all that he's gone through."

Hutch seemed content to just sit by his friend. She was touched by the unabashed love he had for the wounded man. She could tell that it was a strong male bond between these two, something that the blond was not ashamed of.

"Aw buddy, I know you're in pain. I should've been with you." He lowered his head, still holding the lax hand in his. "I wasn't there to back you up." Suddenly, his head snapped up, searching Starsky's eyes for a sign. He could have sworn he felt his friend squeeze his hand.

The eyes were still swollen, impossible to tell if there was any effort to even open them. But he continued to hold the hand as he encouraged his partner.

"Babe, can you hear me? Can you do it again?" Just then a slight grip compressed Hutch's hand.

"April, I think he just squeezed my hand."

She checked his pupils, surveyed the monitors again and nodded her head in approval.

"Very good sign. Keep talking to him."

"You're in the hospital. You need surgery buddy. You're in pretty bad shape, but you'll be okay, I promise."

Hutch continued to hold Starsky's hand but there was not another answering pressure.


	32. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

Soon after, two orderlies arrived to escort Starsky to the operating room. Preparing her patient, April got the portable monitors and other equipment transferred to accompany him until he reached surgery. She nodded to the blond and lightly touched his shoulder, silently advising him to say his farewells.

Hutch leaned closer as he brushed back a loose curl from Starsky's forehead. He whispered once more his promise to be there for him.

"Time to go, Starsk. I'll be right here when you wake up." As the orderlies steered the bed out the door and down the hall, he stood at the cubicle entrance, watching as the gurney disappeared into the elevator.

Hutch stood against the wall, his blond head tapping against it as he tried to get his nerves to settle down. He knew it would be a long, stressful wait until the surgery was over. He wasn't hungry but he could go for a cup of herbal tea.

Stretching the tension out of his neck, he walked toward the lounge where he knew Captain Dobey was waiting. His superior officer had arrived earlier and took the time to let Hutch know he would be waiting across the hall. The captain felt it was important for Hutch to be with his partner for as long as possible and didn't feel the need to interrupt. Dobey knew his role would be to lend support later. So, they would wait together, as they had many times in the past.

The detective entered the room to find Captain Dobey on the phone. Hutch busied himself at the coffee maker. He found a carafe of hot water, assorted packets of hot chocolate, instant coffee and several kinds of tea bags, among them chamomile tea.

He let the bag steep in the cup while he sat at the table. Shortly after, Dobey got off the phone and came to join the blond.

"Ronnie's doing fine. He and Cal are playing a video game and Rosie's already in love with him. Edith is cooking up a storm. She's determined to put some meat on the boy's bones while he's with us." Without rancor, the captain shared the story.

"Damn. I completely forgot about Ronnie. Some guardian I am." Hutch shook his head and took a sip of the soothing tea.

"I owe Ronnie an apology. He's being dragged around instead of receiving the kind of support Starsky wanted to give him." He kneaded the back of his neck for a moment.

Dobey rolled his eyes, wondering how the otherwise self confident detective could wallow in miss placed guilt so easily. But perhaps that's what made the detective's relationship so strong: they felt responsible for each other.

Now, Dobey tried to convince his detective that it was more important that he support his friend and focus only on his partner.

"Hey, you were right where you needed to be. Ronnie's fine with me for now. As soon as Starsky's out of surgery, I'm going home for a few hours and I suggest you do the same." He looked at his detective but doubted the man had heard him. He was preoccupied with his own thoughts as he mindlessly stirred his tea. Dobey drank the coffee then stood up, with a groan.

"You want something to eat? Think I'll go get a sandwich." Hutch shook his head, indicating nothing for him. Left alone, the blond paced around the room, his eyes glancing at the clock, wanting it all to be over.

Both of them had experience waiting while the other was injured and it never got easier. But since Hutch felt that he was to blame for Starsky's present condition, he paced, rehearsing in his heart what he could say, what he could do to reverse the consequences of his actions.

He was torn between waiting here until Starsky was out of surgery and going after that scum, Diaz Ramada. He knew he would keep his vigil until he could see his friend, but his head buzzed with the desire to avenge what happened with his partner.

He thought about calling Huggy. He got up and moved to the phone. His body seemed heavy. He was tired but so stressed that his nerves tingled.

As he held the receiver, he looked at the clock on the wall. It was time for action on his part. But Huggy didn't answer so he slammed the phone back into the cradle. He could fill Huggy in with what was known and the bar owner could keep his ear to the street and get him information about Diaz and where he was. He was anxious to end the gang's reign of terror, especially Diaz. But as soon as he was eliminated, another piece of shit would surface to take his place.

Dobey returned with a sandwich in one hand and a bowl of something steaming in his other hand. He put both down on the table, took a spoon and a pack of crackers out of his coat pocket.

"Here, I got you some soup." The captain slid the container and spoon across the table, inviting Hutch to sit.

The blond lowered his lean body to the chair, smelling the hot soup. He closed his eyes, enjoying the aroma. But he found it important to voice his concerns.

"I want Diaz. Once Starsky's out of danger, I'm gonna track him down." His eyes took on the icy resolve that the Captain was familiar with. It meant danger and once the thought was processed, it would be next to impossible to change Hutch's direction.

Dobey sighed heavily. He did not condone vigilante tactics but he understood Hutch's feelings. "We'll get the son of a bitch, but legally. Now, eat your soup."

They looked at each other for a long moment. Hutch gave the man a grim smile. Dobey pulled out a packet of mustard from his other pocket and spread it on his sandwich.

The soup felt good in his stomach. After Hutch consumed the light meal, he went to the couch and stretched out the best he could along the cushions. Almost instantly, his eyes closed and his body and mind relaxed enough for him to sleep. It was a light, dreamless state until the door opened, when he awakened immediately.

He sat up, quickly alert. Dobey was dozing in a chair by the window and didn't immediately respond until he heard voices.

April stood by Hutch with an update to the surgery.

"I just wanted you to know that David is doing fine. He's got extensive injuries internally as well as his other wounds. Dr. Cloverleaf called in an orthopedic surgeon to repair the leg and they are working on him simultaneously."

"How much longer?" Hutch cleared his throat and pulled out his pocket watch. Never one to be a clock watcher, he detested being a slave to time now.

"A couple more hours probably. Can I convince you to go home for awhile?" At the mention of leaving, Hutch shook his head and was about to reject the idea when April continued.

"I didn't think so. I've ordered a cot be sent to you up here. Captain, should a request one for you?" She put her hand lightly on Hutch's arm, trying to console the big blond who looked so stressed.

"No thank you. I'll go home after Detective Starsky is out of surgery,"

She nodded her head and smiled encouragingly to the blond as she left.

"Thanks cap, for being here. Starsky appreciates it just as I do."

The captain grumped his reply as both men settled down again for the remainder of the wait.


	33. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

Dr. Michael Cloverleaf hesitated at the door to the lounge. He never liked this part of his job. He excelled at surgery but explaining all that went on to the families was often taxing and difficult. He didn't have the best bedside manner, according to the nurses, but his job was to heal and repair, not hold hands.

Stepping into the room, he sized up both men waiting expectantly for news. The blond was tall and serious looking. The look in the blue eyes was intense and harsh, like he expected to get his way.

The other gentleman he noticed was a burly black man; perhaps also a cop? No there was something more. He saw experience in the weathered features leading Michael to wonder if maybe he was the blonde's superior. At any rate, Michael walked further into the room and pulled at the scrub cap still on his head and stuffed it into the pocket of his green surgical pants as he introduced himself.

"I'm Dr. Michael Cloverleaf." He didn't waste time with small talk; instead he informed them of his patient's condition. "Detective Starsky is out of surgery but not out of danger." He extended his hand to the blond.

Hutch stood up and shook Doctor Cloverleaf's hand. "Ken Hutchinson." He returned the handshake and as their eyes met, Hutch felt an instant shiver. He could tell from the handshake, the glint of the eyes and the few words spoken that this man was capable but not friendly. As long as he brought Starsky through, Hutch didn't care if the man chewed nails. Dr. Cloverleaf was slightly taller than the detective. His dark hair was longer than one would expect of a professional doctor.

"What's his condition?" Hutch sat on the couch, indicating the doctor to join him. Instead, the doctor remained standing, looking tired and tense.

"He's still unconscious. His wounds are serious. We had to attach metal rods on the outside of his leg for now until the swelling goes down and he's a little stronger, then it can be permanently repaired." He hesitated slightly before continuing. "I'm worried about infection, given the fact that he was found in such squalid surroundings."

Dobey moaned slightly, realizing he hadn't told his detective about the manner in which Starsky was found.

Hutch glanced at Dobey, waiting for an explanation.

The captain leaned toward Hutch, balancing his elbows on his knees.

"Diaz threw him in a dumpster down by the docks. It wasn't a pretty site." Dobey lowered his head, his words reduced to a whisper as he ended the sentence.

Hutch paled, swallowed and stood up, pacing to the other end of the room. He examined the empty glass coffee carafe, picked it up and without warning, threw the pot across the room.

Both the doctor and Dobey flinched as the shards splintered across the floor. The doctor backed away as Dobey shouted for Hutch to control his actions.

"Detective, stand down!" Dobey's delivery of the serious order was enough to calm Hutch.

"Bastard!" He swore under his breath as he hit the counter with his fist. The unusual display of temper embarrassed Hutch but the act itself seemed to use up all his energy. His head sagged and it was a few quiet minutes before Hutch moved. Dr. Cloverleaf cleared his throat. The room was tense. He was anxious to return to his patient. He knew how to react to medical situations, not outburst of anger and grief.

Dobey rested his hand on Hutch's shoulder. They looked briefly at each other then the captain began to clean up the mess while Hutch addressed the doctor again.

"I want to see him." He moved past the doctor and reached for the door handle, but stopped when the doctor's hand flattened against the door, barring the blond from opening it.

They turned to face each other, eyes blazing, daring the other to back down. Since that didn't happen, Dr. Cloverleaf sighed, not wanting to face the blonde's pain again.

"Very well. You get five minutes. But let me tell you this. He's in very serious condition. He had dangerous internal injuries. I had to remove his spleen, which will make it harder for him to fight off any infection now and in the future."

"He's my best friend." With that Hutch turned back to the door, hesitated before opening it. There was a slight adjustment to his shoulders as he readied himself to face his friend.

The door shut softly, leaving Captain Dobey and Dr. Cloverleaf alone.

Dobey cleared his throat and looked apologetically at the doctor.

"I'm Harold Dobey, their police captain." He swiped his hand across his face, wondering how to explain Hutch's behavior. "He can be very determined when it comes to his partner. They are my best detectives and very good friends. You were wise not to keep him from going to David. Believe me; your patient will do much better if Hutch is allowed to be with him as much as possible."

Michael lowered himself to a chair, sitting stiffly on the edge of it, as if ready to leap to his feet any second. He felt that these two men were his equals. There weren't many people who he respected, but the detective and captain were the exception. Silence prevailed, each man lost in his own thoughts: Captain Dobey wondering again how much his detectives could withstand and the doctor mentally mapping out Starsky's recovery.

Quietly, Hutch entered Starsky's room. He was ashamed of his outburst in front of the captain and the doctor, but he was so angry at Diaz and what he'd done to his partner. He had to make it right.

The first thing he noticed was how pale Starsky was. His normal olive toned skin was ashen. His face was still swollen, now purple and green bruises stood out, smudges of color under his closed eyes.

Large bandages over the wound on his chest were tinged red.

His leg was not in a plaster cast, but suspended and held in place by a series of metal rods surgically positioned on the outside of the leg. One of several drains was attached where the spleen had been removed.

Several I.V. bags hung from frames, as if they were standing guard over Starsky. While blood and antibiotics flowed in to strengthen him, drains attached to the surgical areas of his body snaked out from his body, evacuating blood and urine.

The machines whirred and beeped, keeping track of blood pressure, heart rate and other functions that Hutch could only guess at. At least his friend wasn't attached to a respirator. But it was small comfort when the blond reached out to the man on the bed.

Starsky's hand was dry as were his lips. He moved to the bathroom to wring out a cloth in cool water. Gently, he wiped the wash cloth over the cracked lips and slowly moved it over the curly head. He lightly wiped away traces of blood that still clung to the dark hair.

Hutch returned to the sink, rinsed out the cloth and came back to his friend. He repeated the gesture with the cloth to Starsky's lips. A small quivering noise indicated that the offering was felt and appreciated. His tongue snaked out to receive the moisture.

"I'm here buddy. I'll make this all up to you. I promise." He grasped Starsky's hand again. Hutch winced at the condition of his friend and vowed to avenge the results caused by Diaz Ramada.

Hutch moved his chair closer in order to offer more comfort. As he continued stroking his friend's arm, he noticed moisture in the corner of one eye. He reached for the cool cloth to wipe it away but the tears continued to trace a path down the swollen face, Hutch was even more racked by guilt. He knew he had caused his partner's tears and now this was the only way Starsky had of communicating his pain.

"Wish I could make this all go away." Hutch wiped at his own tears as he continued to gently massage Starsky's uninjured shoulder.

The tears finally stopped but there was no more verbal response from the man in the bed. When the nurse came in to check on her patient, Hutch stood in the doorway, watching as the nurse efficiently did her duty. He grimaced with the pain he knew his friend was experiencing. Once again, he promised himself to hunt Diaz down and make him pay for what he'd done.


	34. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33**

For weeks, Starsky struggled for his life. True to Dr. Cloverleaf's grim prediction, the man battled infections. The drains in the wounds to his chest and leg went from the bright red blood to discolored fluid. Even the site where his spleen was removed became infected, compounding the serious nature of his condition. Surgery was required twice to clean the wounds out. Hutch worried that Starsky wasn't strong enough to withstand the surgery but there was no choice. Dr. Cloverleaf had said that without his spleen, it would be harder for Starsky to fight off any infections. That proved to be the case since the wounds became infected regardless of the good care the injured man received. The blond hovered constantly, bathing his friend in cool water to help bring the fever down.

He never fully regained consciousness. The high fevers caused him to be disoriented and hallucinate. He called out for his father, for his mother, even for Terry. It was another indication to Hutch that he had failed his friend. She had entrusted Hutch to watch over her lover but the blond didn't feel that he'd done a very good job.

All of this tore at Hutch's heart, especially when Starsky never called out his name; further proof to the blond that Starsky wasn't asking Hutch for help. Resolutely, he stood guard, offering a cool cloth to the fevered head. When the moisturized sponges didn't seem to be enough to refresh the cracked and dry lips, Hutch gently wiped them with a damp washcloth wrung out in refreshing water. With each tender gesture, Hutch would whisper his promise to make it all up to his friend. But it was when his friend seemed to pull away from his touch that was hardest of all on the blond. Several times, Starsky jerked at any touch to his body, making Hutch feel as if he'd just caused more pain or subconsciously, it was Starsky rejecting Hutch's help. His guilt would grow with each spasm he witnessed.

But not even that would dislodge Hutch from his partner's side for longer than it took him to wash up and change clothes which magically appeared every few days. Unknown to him, Dobey had contacted Huggy who willingly stood by, ready to lend a hand wherever he was needed. Hutch wasn't available emotionally for anything other than Starsky, but the bar owner kept in contact with other snitches on the street in case anyone had information on Diaz Ramada, who seemed to have disappeared. But once Starsky was out of danger, Huggy knew that Hutch would be hell bent on tracking the gang member down and would welcome any information, no matter how old it might be.

One day, after Hutch repeatedly rejected invitations from his captain to go home with him for dinner, the burly black man walked into Starsky's room, armed with a lethal weapon, designed to break down Hutch's stubborn resolve.

"How is he today?" The Captain watched the still seriously ill detective, praying silently, relying on his faith since his own wishing didn't seem to improve the man's condition.

Hutch sat beside Starsky. Uncurling his long legs from under him, he stretched both limbs out in front of him before standing. When he did, he massaged his lower back and rotated his shoulders in an effort to sort out the various kinks and aches caused by so much sitting.

"A little better. His fever's down." Hutch walked toward Dobey to shake his captain's hand.

"Here, something from Rosie. I have no idea what it is, but she insisted I give it to you."

_The injured man's body twitched. He couldn't seem to capture the images and thoughts that swirled around him. But he knew he wasn't alone. He struggled within himself to break free of whatever it was that rooted him to a hard surface._

_Starsky felt as if he was standing under a waterfall. The pounding, rushing water weighed him down. The noise drowned out voices and he couldn't tell where they were nor could he make sense of the words._

_Suddenly, the crashing heaviness disappeared, leaving him weak but the voices were closer and the weight lifted from him. He drank in the conversation, wanting to respond as he heard captain Dobey mention Rosie, then Hutch's soothing voice read something that the young girl had written. He wanted to laugh but it took too much effort so he just enjoyed the sounds. He thought he'd screamed out his joy at being part of it all again, but when nobody responded, he took a breath and struggled to be heard._

Dobey handed Hutch a folded piece of green construction paper. He sighed as he watched the still form in the bed. Hutch stood at the foot of the bed, as he began to read.

In a childish script done with a purple crayon, Hutch read the invitation out loud.

"_Dear uncle Hutch:_

_Please come home with daddy for dinner. He says you're too skinny._

_Mommy is making something really good. I miss you._

_Please give Uncle Starsky a kiss for me._

_P.S.- Mommy helped me write this. She told me to set an extra place at the table for you. She loves you too._

_Love_

_Rosie_

"Well, I can't very well refuse, can I?" Hutch smiled at the paper in his hand then went to share it with Starsky.

Starsky swallowed and winced with pain. He tried to move his lips and form a word. Hutch didn't hear it at first because the voice was weak and gravely.

"Go." Just one word had the capacity to change everything. Obviously, the last angry confrontation between them was the first thing that Starsky remembered as he awakened. Hutch didn't blame him, hell, he didn't deserve forgiveness. The burden of his guilt weighed heavily on Hutch's shoulders. He couldn't celebrate because of it.

Captain Dobey smiled broadly looking to share in the joy at hearing Starsky speak. Instead of jubilation, Dobey watched the pained expression cross the blonde's features.

Starsky struggled again to speak but the words wouldn't form. The face contorted into pain, teeth biting into bottom lip as he tried to ride out the discomfort.

Hutch watched as the bed ridden man struggled to clear his head from the heavy fog of illness. He wanted to reach out, to help him make the transition but felt that Starsky had already made it clear that he didn't need him.

Dobey continued to watch the blond, annoyed that his detective could be so blind to Starsky's distress. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he moved closer to the two men.

"Hutch, what's the matter? This is what we've been waiting for. He needs you." The blond bowed his head as he turned away. Dobey watched as Starsky clutched at the letter from Rosie. He did his best to reach out to Hutch but he managed only a frustrated cry, further proof to Hutch that it was a cry of anger, not need.

The paper crinkled loudly as Starsky's hand shook with the effort to gain his friend's attention. He desperately needed Hutch to understand how much he needed him. Attempting to speak again, he struggled for breath enough to communicate.

"Rosie, dinner…." Starsky struggled for air to complete his thought. He was rewarded by a tentative look from the blond. In a scratchy, dry voice he croaked out a final word. "…date…." Finally Hutch understood that the first word spoken was not an expression of anger, but an answer to a conversation that he didn't realize his friend had heard. His reaction was swift as he reached out, grabbing the listless hand that searched for him, silently asking him to stay.

"Oh my god, Starsky!" Hutch's wide smile felt foreign on his face as he beamed his pleasure. "You heard me read that letter, didn't you?" Hutch looked down at his friend, relief wiping away his doubts.

Dobey whispered a prayer of thanks and gave in to the joy, letting his gratefulness overflow.

Hutch reached for the letter from Rosie, closing his hand over Starsky's who still held it in his.

He sat down on the bed. Starsky groaned so Hutch reluctantly shifted away, only to have his friend reach out slowly to stop him. Hutch swallowed down the lump in his throat as he responded. "It's been a long haul, buddy. I've missed you." He didn't know what to say. He was so relieved that his friend was finally conscious but found he was at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted to say but sitting there, watching as those blue eyes struggled to remain open, was all that he needed at the moment. There would be time for apologies and promises.

Starsky struggled to respond but his voice faltered and he coughed weakly but it was strong enough to cause a shiver to run through him.

Hutch helped Starsky sit upright, supporting his back as the cough tore through both men. "Easy now, don't push yourself." Hutch tried to calm Starsky, wanting him to reserve what little strength he had. Starsky's hand limply waved at his friend, indicating he was okay. Hutch gently guided his friend back against the mattress.

The blond nodded toward the call button as he looked at the captain. Dobey pressed the button and within minutes, the nurse appeared, taking in two happy faces and one very weak, but determined patient. She went to work examining her patient's vital signs. She was pleased with what she found and wrote the results in the chart.

"I'll page Dr. Cloverleaf. I'm so relieved to see improvement." She gently moved her fingers through Starsky's hair. She'd grown to care about this man and was impressed with Hutch's constant vigil.

"Welcome back." She smiled at them and left to page the doctor.

"Hurts." Starsky managed another word. But it was no wonder he was in pain. As Hutch glanced over the battered body, he grimaced at his friend's condition. He sighed at the thought of the struggle the man had ahead of him. But he knew Starsky's will to live was strong and coupled with Hutch's determination to make it happen, the dark- haired man would recover. But Hutch promised himself again that he would avenge the damage he now saw in front of him. He knew better than to express his desire again to his captain but whether it was on his own time or with badge in hand, he would seek out and destroy Diaz Ramada. Also, because Diaz had taken advantage of Ronnie's naive nature, he would seek retribution for how the boy had been exploited.


	35. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34**

As they waited for the doctor to arrive, Hutch continued to sit by his friend. Starsky didn't speak again but kept his gaze locked with his partner's. It was as if he needed confirmation that he wasn't still having fever induced dreams. Several times, he clutched at Hutch's hand as spasms of pain radiated through his body. He didn't yet know the full extent of his injuries.

Once Dr. Cloverleaf arrived, Hutch moved away from the bed as the doctor examined his patient. He made several notes in the chart, changed settings on several of the I.V.'s and nodded his approval at blood pressure readings and pulse.

Finally the wounded man was left alone. He was given a sedative with medication to reduce pain. The effects worked quickly, much to the visitor's relief. Hutch stood at the door, taking one last look at his friend before they joined Dr. Cloverleaf out in the hall to hear the prognosis.

"He's still not out of the woods yet. But his fever's been down for twenty four hours which is a good sign. His vitals are all stronger and his color is better. There's still a long road to recovery but I'm sure with your help detective, David will recuperate nicely. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go over the changes for his care with the nurse." He turned and went straight to the nurse's station without another word.

"He doesn't have the best bedside manner but he sure knows his stuff." Dobey scratched the side of his head as they watched the professional relay his orders.

"Cap, I can't believe he's finally better. Thanks for all you've done." Hutch moved toward the lounge to sit on a chair. The room had become all too familiar but he was grateful for all that the nurse's had made available to him. He knew it was not normal practice to provide this room so willingly, but he appreciated the care.

The captain grumbled something under his breath then, changed the subject.

"You know you can't disappoint Rosie so you better wash up. We better not keep the women waiting." Dobey smiled and laughed to himself. The idea of Rosie expecting Hutch was priceless. It's what the detective needed.

"I don't know.. maybe…another time?" Hutch didn't want to leave now that Starsky was able to communicate.

"Huh, fat chance refusing my daughter. It's an order anyway." Dobey feigned a serious look but Hutch knew there was no way he could deny the little girl anything. Both he and Starsky had a special place in their hearts for her.

Dobey watched as his detective left to clean up. Hutch's back was a little less stooped and there was a bit more energy in his long legs. A night away would be good for Hutch.

Tomorrow would be the start of another hard road. Recovery would require strength and grit from both men in order to reclaim Starsky's life.

Hutch was ready to shoulder the responsibility. Not only would he be with Starsky during his recovery but somehow, he would find Diaz. Whether the gang member made it to jail or not, Hutch didn't think that far. He also vowed to help Ronnie transition to a happy young man. He owed Starsky that much.

He had a lot to answer for. He had doubted his friend when Starsky had reached out to Ronnie. He had not believed in the young man but in the past few weeks, he'd seen the boy struggle to prove his worth.

Hutch believed he would be able to help both Starsky and Ronnie. In order to do that, he would have to track down the gang member responsible for the chain of events that led them all to doubt and mistrust one another.

The answers for all three would not come easy.


End file.
